


Spaceship-shaped Clouds

by FroggyBangBang



Series: The Aliens Made Us Do It [1]
Category: Cabin Pressure
Genre: Aliens Make Them Do It, Anal Sex, And more sex, Angst, Bondage, Butt Plugs, Chocolate, Dubious Consent, First Time, M/M, Martin is in control, Multiple Orgasms, Oral Sex, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Rough Sex, Sensory Deprivation, Sex, Sex Toys, Sexual Content, Shower Sex, Sounding, Usage of food in an non-eating way, dub-con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-28
Updated: 2012-11-01
Packaged: 2017-11-08 18:14:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 25,614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/446052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FroggyBangBang/pseuds/FroggyBangBang
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the prompt "{Insert noun} made them do it".</p><p>Basically... sex. Dubcon by the nature of the prompt.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. What the...

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by [this prompt](http://cabinpres-fic.dreamwidth.org/4885.html?thread=6734613#cmt6734613).
> 
> Huge thanks to [Serinah](http://archiveofourown.org/users/serinah) who betaed this monster for me! All mistakes still mine, but thanks to her there are now less of them! :) THANK YOU!
> 
>  
> 
> ** It has been brought to my attention that notes in chapters looks really funky in readers like the kindle and such. So I removed them all but if you want to see the two amazing fanarts made for Chapter 7&10 made by thekaskproject and MxDP, check the note at the end of the work ;)

Martin woke up, feeling disoriented. Blinking against the bright light, all he could see was white. He turned around and saw... more white. A feeling close to panic settled in his stomach; he couldn't remember how he got here, where ever 'here' was, or what had happened to get him here. The last thing he remembered was being in the flight deck, with Douglas, on a cargo flight. He remembered Arthur bringing their coffee and tea and saying something about going back to count the clouds that looked like spaceships before going back in the galley. And then... being here. _What had happen after? Why can't I remember?_

He took a tentative step forward. The surface under his feet _When did I lose my shoes? Lost my hat, too..._ was firm. 

“He-hello?”

He expected to hear something back, echo at least since the place he was in looked bare of any furniture, but not a sound greeted him in answer. The panic swelled a bit. He felt totally alone, lost and so cold. _Where am I? Oh god... Oh God! I'm dead! That's it: We were in the flight deck and something must have happened and now I'm dead. I guess so are Douglas and Arthur... Oh God... Oh God, Carolyn is going to kill me! Well... revive me and then kill me! Gerti's probably a goner, too..._

He walked a few more step on the white surface, “Anyone here? Arthur? Douglas?” His throat closed up a little under the pressure of the fear and his next words came out as a low squeal: “Anyone?”

Suddenly a narrow vertical line appeared in front of him. More 'white-less' then black, the line, when it had reached what would be the floor, started to widen.

_A door... ?_

Warm air pushed through the opening, beckoning him. _Well... I guess staying here is no better than having a look..._ He hesitantly stepped towards the door.


	2. Don't Chicken Out!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On with the sex!

It turned out that the door was an elevator of sort, pushing him upwards. When the moving sensation stopped, the blackness just sort of vanished, letting Martin stand in the middle of a big floor, surrounded by some kind of glass panel. There was a big mattress a few feet away from him and some other things he could make out: a small... pond, for lack of a better word, stood in a corner; some ropes hung in the middle space between the pond and the mattress; something that looked frighteningly close to a giant gerbil water bottle, the kind you hung on the side of the cage, was stuck on one of the walls; a white rectangular box on the floor, close to it; and in a corner was a heap of metal chains, bars and leather straps. There was also all kind of tubes hanging from the roof of his... cage.

Martin swallowed nervously. He was pretty sure death wasn't like that. Not that he'd ever _been_ dead before, but this didn't look like any of the afterlife stories he heard. 

A voice resounded in his cage, seemingly coming from everywhere at once, making him jump.

“Welcome, subject 9-20. Sorry for the wait.”

“hmm... hmm.. h-hi? Hi! Where am I? What is happening? Who are you? Pleasedon'thurtme”

“You are currently in the testing chamber 73. You where chosen for your capacities as human being to reproduce. Who I am doesn't matter. Be aware that we will hurt you only if necessary: you have nothing to fear.”

“T-test? I... reprod... Why... What do you mean 'on-only if necessary'?”

“If you do not comply with the test, we will have to hurt you to make sure you comply. If you still refuse to comply, we will have no other choice than to delete you and chose another test subject from the pool available on your planet. You have nothing to fear.”

“Delete... Delete? Has in... destroy? D-death?”

“Correct.”

Martin tried to swallow around the bile that was mounting in his throat. _Well at least this means I'm not dead yet..._

“Please stand still for the placement of your control collar. Moving will only increase the pain necessary to the attachment of the collar.”

Just as the voice was telling him not to move, three of the ceiling tubes came down toward him. Martin let out a squeal, but stayed frozen in place. Apparently 'only hurt you if necessary' didn't hold the same meaning to the voice as it did to Martin, but he had no intention of increasing whatever pain they thought necessary.

The tubes spread around his throat and a low prickling started in his neck, like very low electrical current. It increased a little with each passing second the tube where on his throat, and then a sensation close to a whip bite that went all around his neck took place over any other feeling of discomfort. When the sharp pain decreased, the tubes went back up to the ceiling. Martin brought his hand to his neck and felt something like a thick leather collar all around his neck. He couldn't move it an inch, like it was sewn to his skin.

Martin had just about enough time to wrap his head around that fact that the voice called a strong “NO!” that sent a bolt of pain through his body. The pain only lasted a second of two, thankfully, but he was on his knees, panting, when it stopped.

“You have just experienced what will happen if you disobey us. We are sorry for the necessary discomfort we brought you just now. You will be happy to know that previous test enabled us to not kill you with the necessary discipline.”

 _That's_ discomfort _? I really don't want to know what 'hurt' is..._ He tried very hard not to think about what those 'previous test' felt like to the poor test subjects.

“For the first part of the test, we need to observe you getting aroused. Be informed that for the duration of the tests, we will be collecting information painlessly through your collar. Please begin”

Martin blinked, unsure of what he was to do. Would they be providing images and sound or something or was he suppose to simply... wank?

A small tingle passed through the collar, an obvious warning.

“Please begin” said the voice again.

“I'm... Sorry bu-but... what am I expected to do exactly?”

“Begin being aroused.” The voice had the tone of someone rolling its eyes at him. This, more than anything, made Martin blushed furiously.

“But, but... how?”

“However you get aroused normally. You really aren't the brightest test subject, are you?”

“Excuse me if I'm not use to this kind of situation! And, f-frankly, I don't think I can... can get aroused just like that... with you wa-watching?”

A small bite was sent to his collar.

“Please _begin_.”

Nervously, Martin closed his eyes and tried to think of something nice. It was really hard to find a good image in this context: his mind kept jumping from frantic thought to nice image, to scary image, to calming thought and back again. He took a deep breath and brought his hand on top of his uniform trousers and began to stroke himself awkwardly. The voice never mentioned getting naked and he wasn't going to be the one to suggest it.

He continued breathing deeply, his hand more and more at ease with the slow up-and-down stroking and his mind calming a little. If he could just focus on the nice sensation of his hand cupping himself loosely on top of his trousers, he could almost forget why he was doing it in the first place.

He wrapped his left hand around his balls and played a bit with them, squeezing them a little and moving his fingers around his scrotum to shift them a bit, his right hand accelerating just a tad. A light moan escaped from his lips. He stroked his thumb up and down his balls, his right hand stroking faster and faster, twisting his wrist and contracting his fingers randomly. It felt good, but not enough. His cock was erected and his briefs felt too small. When he let go of his sack to bring his left hand inside his trouser, the voice brought him back to the moment:

“Good. Stop.”

When he didn't stop immediately, a small bite came through the collar. A bit put off and really needy, Martin let his hands drop to his sides and waited more instructions.

“We now need to know how you would get a partner aroused.”

Martin looked around, afraid the collar would shock him again if he didn't start right away, but he could see no other test subject in the cage. Hoping it wouldn't bring forth the pain, Martin asked the question out loud:

“How am I to do that alone?”

“We have chosen two choices of test subject for you to choose from. One of them is XY and the other is Double-X.”

Martin frowned a bit. He suspected they meant they got him a male and female from whom to choose who to have sex with, which was all right in a way: he didn't mind either gender. But the idea of having to do... stuff with someone else in his situation was more than a bit unnerving.

“Please chose.”

Two projections appeared on one of the glass walls. The first one was his co-pilot wearing a collar probably similar to Martin's own and an annoyed expression on his face. _Douglas! Thank God. He's okay. Wait... Do they... Are they expecting me and_ Douglas _to... to... to_ that _together?! Choice number two, I think._ When Martin flicked his eyes to the second projection, a strangle noise came out of his throat. 

“But that's... that's a-a-a-a-a..... You can't expect me to-to-to... that's.... with a _chicken_?”

Martin couldn't seriously think of getting his FO aroused. But, really, when the other choice was a chicken, ( _A chicken! They got me a chicken! How do they expect to 'study the reproduction of the human' with a sodding bird!_ ) was there really a choice? Martin didn't even want to glance at the wrongness of his mind when he felt himself hesitate for half a second. The chicken wouldn't laugh at him afterwards at least... Weird, though; with Douglas being there too, Martin would have thought _Arthur_ would have been the second choice. Why a _chicken_?

“Please chose. The test subject you discard will be deleted.”

_Del..? oh!_

“Douglas! Douglas! I chose Douglas!”

No matter what the voice forced him to do, he could at least explain to Douglas afterwards that it was either that or getting him killed. _And hopefully Douglas will agree it was the best choice._ He was now very glad that Arthur wasn't the second choice. He wouldn't have been able to choose between his two friends.

The chicken on the second projection glowered bright white and disappeared, leaving only a small dust pile on the white floor. The Douglas on the first projection got a bit paler and his eye grew wide. _They must have been in the same room._ Then Douglas walked off-screen and the projection stopped. A couple of minutes later, a black cylinder rose from the floor and, when it disappeared, Douglas was standing in its place with a puzzled expression on his face.

“Martin? What... Do you know what is happening?”

“Silence. Test subject 9-20, please begin silently on subject 9-22 as you did on yourself or necessary control will have to be applied. Test subject 9-22 please stand still and silent for this part of the test or necessary control will have to be applied.”

Martin stepped slowly towards Douglas and, with the deepest look of apology in his eye, put his hand on Douglas' crotch. Douglas' eyes grew big from the shock, which made Martin lower his eyes and blush even more but not stop in his ministration. Douglas didn't try to move or speak, so he must have had a taste of what 'control' meant.

Martin kneed his right hand at the base of Douglas' cock a few times and then gripped it lightly and started pulling slowly. He let go, went at the base again, and pulled. He kept his a slow rhythm, only changing his movement here and then to add a twist of the wrist or a brush of the fingertips at the tip of what felt like the start of a very big erection. The only sound he heard was Douglas' breath intake and soft shuddering sighs. Martin looked up quickly under his eyelashes to get a look at his face, to know if he was doing it right so has not to get 'controlled'. His eyes locked with Douglas' who was staring at his intensely, eyes dark with lust and need. The eye contact was broken when Martin added a small squeeze of the testicle before a pull: Douglas' lips parted on an almost-moan, his eyes closed and his head bent back.

“Good. Stop.”

Remembering the pain of not stopping at the instant the voice said to, Martin let abruptly let go of Douglas mid-stroke. A sharp intake of breath was the only indication Douglas felt the loss of contact.

“Subject 9-22, please do the same to subject 9-20”

With a look of mild confusion, Douglas, brought his hands to Martin's thigh. He squeezed the base a bit and then led his hand flat around Martin's erection. He stroke fast, pushing the cock against Martin's thigh, his hand going all the way down to cup his tip and then back up faster and faster with a slight squeeze of the thumb and forefinger with each down stroke. Martin was rapidly caught in the sensations. His breathing was hard and fast, sweat sticking his shirt to his skin. The friction was almost starting to hurt, but the feeling was so intense Martin thought he wouldn't be able to last much longer. And just when he was about to let go, the voice resounded:

“Good. Stop.”

Douglas, like Martin before, stopped in mid-stroke. The loss of feeling and the frustration at being teased1 was almost maddening. He let out a strangled whimper, shuddering with need. He looked back at Douglas, who was looking at him with a sly smile on his lips but eye still darken by the lust.

“Subject 9-22, please exchange saliva with subject 9-20”

“Pardon?”

“I believe you call it 'Kissing'.”

“Oh. Erm.”

Martin looked at Douglas, unsure. He didn't have the time to think about it that pain was emitting from both their collar. Douglas recovered first, grumbling a bit, and planted a peck on Martin's lips.

“Longer.” Came the voice almost immediately.

With a frustrated, but determined, sigh Douglas slowly pushed his lips on Martin's again and stayed there.

“Good. Now exchange saliva.”

Martin felt a small lick, asking permission, on his lips. He answered in kind and parted his lips to let Douglas' tongue in. What a strange sensation, to be kissing his friend. This felt somehow even more intimate than their previous activities.

“Deeper.”

Martin saw through his eyelashes Douglas rolling his eye. He had to agree with the sentiment; really, the voice wasn't letting them much time to adjust to the situation. He moved his lips against Douglas' pushing his tongue in, gently and taking it out to let Douglas do the same. Not surprisingly, Martin discovered that Douglas was a very good kisser. He put just enough pressure on his lips, kept most of his saliva in his mouth and didn't try to conquer Martin's mouth with his tongue. Martin followed eagerly, pulling out lightly only to gasp a bit of air here and there.

“Good. Continue. Subject 9-20, help subject 9-22 to get aroused. Subject 9-22, put your hands around subject 9-20”

It took a second or two to remember which subject number he was, but no pain came to stop the kiss. Martin moved his right hand between them, to grab at Douglas' already heavy erection and started to rub with the heel of his hand long, strong, slow stroke down the shaft, coming back up with only the tip of his fingers squeezing slightly on each side and then back down with the heel of his hand again.

Douglas squeezed his shoulder in answer, deepening the kiss a bit. Martin moaned at the sensation of the kiss and the stroke of the hands on his back and neck. Douglas moaned at the sensation of Martin's hand on him.

“Good. Still your hands, both of you. Keep you position. You can stop exchanging saliva.”

Their mouths separated in a sloppy gasp. Douglas rested his head on Martin's shoulder, panting hard. He felt the hand resting on the back of his neck pressing down, as if asking a question. Martin nodded slightly, signalling that he was all right.

Both of them froze when, suddenly, their clothes vanished.


	3. Fill me In.

“The covers you were wearing will not be needed for the next part of the test. Please refrain from talking until mentioned otherwise or necessary control will be applied.”

Martin blushed slightly at the realisation that his hand was now directly on Douglas. With no clothing in between. Douglas must have felt his anxiety because one of his finger started to pet the nape of his neck. A very small movement that puzzled Martin greatly. _Maybe he's trying to soothe himself, too?_ It was the only explanation that made sense. 

The voice didn't speak for several more minutes, making their position feel a bit less awkward with the time to get use to it, Douglas sometimes moving to find a better position, only to still immediately each time he brushed against Martin's hand. _His erection must be even more painful than mine. He was 'aroused' quite a bit longer than I have been._

When the voice came back, it was to give an odd order, but both of them were past the oddity of all this, accepting it like it was a dream and just doing as the voice stated in order to avoid pain through collar.

“Don't move. Subject 9-22, lick slowly at the skin of the neck of subject 9-20. Don't stop.”

Martin shuddered at the feeling as Douglas, with the tip of his tongue, ever so slowly licked a trail upward on the part of Martin's neck he could reach without moving his head. The excruciatingly slow movement of the tongue was knee melting. Douglas changed trail with every lick, covering a wide area at the base of Martin's neck. Only using the tip. Ever. So. Slowly.

It felt so good and lasted for so long, Martin almost missed the voice giving the new command of sucking and biting softly, and he couldn't old back the deep moan Douglas' mouth on his neck brought. Involuntary, the muscle in his right thumb spasm, making his thumb flex at the tip of Douglas' cock just as Douglas was giving a small bite. The bite wasn't as small as intended and Douglas kept his jaw clenched on Martin's neck to smother his groan, his hips jerking forward. The movement brought a stroke from Martin's hand and both men's penis touched, sending thrills of pleasure to both of them.

Steeling himself, Douglas breathed deeply through his nose and slowly unclenched his jaw. After another breath he began to lick lightly at the bite. Martin rested his head on Douglas' shoulder and tried to catch his breath.

“Good. Stop.”

He had almost forgotten about the voice.

“Subject 9-22, go sit on the bed. Subject 9-20 stand as close as you can, facing away, legs on either side of subject 9-22's thighs.”

The two men disentangled themselves and moved to their new positions. Now Marting could really see that Douglas was indeed aroused. _Beautiful._ The though came before he had a chance to stop it. His own erection strained a bit more at the sight of the size of Douglas. Swallowing hard, Martin turned around and waited for more instructions.

“Subject 9-22, use the object that appeared at you feet on your hand.”

Martin made to look back, to know what said object was, when his collar buzzed a warning. _Right. Eyes front._ All he could hear was a wet noise. Apprehension started to make its way to his stomach.

“Good. Subject 9-22, please prepare subject 9-20.”

_Prepare? Prepare to wha-a-AH! COLD!_

Martin's hole clenched around the uninvited finger penetrating him. Douglas let his finger with only the very tip inside Martin for a moment, turning his hand this way and that. When Martin stopped clenching, the finger redrew for a moment before entering to the last knuckle without any warning. With a intake of breath, Martin forced himself to relax. If Douglas was preparing him for himself, Martin knew he needed to be stretched a lot more and the voice hardly seemed patient with procedures. He closed his eye tightly when a second finger joined the first. _Too fast, too fast. Breathe, relax. You need to relax... That's it... Breathing in... aaaaand out.... in... and out... ah, yes! This is gooOOD!_ Martin hissed a breath when a third, almost immediately followed by a fourth finger entered him at the sound of the voice saying 'more'. Douglas wrapped his left hand on Martin's thigh, squeezing a bit. Martin clenched his hand around the reassuring touch to ground himself. He knew it wasn't Douglas' fault.

The fingers rotated and flexed inside him. Once his initial discomfort passed, Martin started to enjoy the moment. The in-and-out movement of the hand, the exploring fingers flexing and stroking made him light-headed. They never stopped wriggling and when one hit square on his prostate, the wave of pleasure made him forget himself.

“Hoh!”

Almost a moan, but too much a word for the voice. His collar buzzed in warning and the voice talked again:

“Good. Keep still. Subject 9-20 please remember to keep quiet. Subject 9-22, please lubricate the object at your feet with your free hand and proceed to use it.”

A bit breathless, Martin frowned. _So Douglas wasn't preparing me for him? I guess that's good..._ He felt awkward in this position, standing upright with his legs on either side of Douglas', four of Douglas' fingers inside him. He didn't have long to wait before Douglas withdrew his fingers and started to push something else in before Martin really had time to acknowledge the loss. 

Whatever it was had a broad tip, about as large as two of Douglas' fingers and a steep angle, growing bigger and bigger as it was pushed it. Martin crouched a bit, trying to help with the entry.

“Subject 9-20, you may bent forward a little.”

Martin gladly obliged, resting his elbows on his thighs. Douglas pushed a bit more, slowly, before pulling it out a couple of millimetres then starting to push in again. Martin bit his lower lip against the moan he almost let out. The light buzzing at his exclamation of pleasure, earlier, was only a warning and he didn't want more than that. His cock was painfully hard between is legs and the impulse of stroking himself very strong at this point, with his hands so close. He fisted his hands and tried to relax to let the thing penetrating him enter more smoothly. It's width was now slightly larger than Douglas' fingers had been. It was long enough and had just enough of an angle that when it finally got in completely, narrowing down to the width of four of Douglas' finger, the tip was brushing slightly against Martin's prostate.

Breathing hard, his hole clenching reflexively against the intruding object, Martin came to the realisation that he was wearing a butt plug. A very big one. He squeezed his eyes and bit his lips as the idea sent a wave of need in his crotch.

“Good. Subject 9-20 please stand straight up.”

Martin did so, if gingerly, clenching his teeth together hard at the feeling of the plug brushing his prostate and not being able to do anything for his erection.

“Good. Now, go drink.”

Martin blinked. Though, thinking about it, he was pretty thirsty. He made a step toward the big gerbil water bottle that got illuminated when the voice finished talking.

 _Oh!_ Hissing in a breath, Martin took another step. Not only was walking with an erection awkward and walking with something so big inside him even more so, but the tip of the plug kept grazing at the sensitive gland at every movement. After a few more steps, Martin had to stop. He was tensed all over his body, which made the intrusion of the plug all the more present and hard to ignore. 

“Go drink.”

The slight buzzing again. Martin whimpered and moved about five more steps before needing to stop again. He was shaking so hard he had trouble breathing normally. And the water bottle was still pretty far away. He took some big breath, trying to calm painful arousal. He was about to take another few step when he heard Douglas groan in pain. Turning his neck back he saw his co-pilot with a hand on his neck. Martin frowned _What did he do?_

“Subject 9-20, please go drink or necessary control will be applied.”

At the voices words, Douglas winced. He looked like he was trying hard not to show the pain he felt.

Martin blanched. _They can't hurt_ him _just because_ I _won't drink fast enough, right? This is absurd!_ But evidently true: Douglas was now a slight shade of pink. Martin took a big step forward, trying very hard to ignore any sensation walking was giving him. He heard Douglas' sigh of relief when the pain from his collar subsided, but he kept on walking until he reach the water bottle, shaking with all his limbs. The tug in his groin, the large stretching of his hole and the probing and sliding of the tip of the plug against his prostate would have been delightful is not so excruciating. 

He put his forehead on the cool surface of the bottle, when he finally arrived, to pull himself together. He was drenched in sweet and his stomach and thighs were wet with the heavy pre-come he had been leaking since Douglas was preparing him. He would have come already if the probing had been more consistent or the stretching less... motionless. _I would give anything for a good fuck right now! Actually, scratch that. I would give anything just to be able to wank right now._ He pushed himself upright and put his mouth at the end of the bottle, trying to figure out how to drink from it.

He eventually figured out a way, putting his lips around the big metal tip, he nudged the metal ball inside the tip with his tongue, pushing it inside the tube and giving a flick of the tongue upward to make it roll, while he sucked to get the water pass the ball. Martin put both hands around the metal tube and closed his eyes as the cool water dripped down his throat, making his head and tongue move faster to get more water, sucking harder.

“Good. Stop. Return to the bed.”

He let go of the tube and took a step back, opening his eyes, gasping for air. When he turned around he saw Douglas looking at him with hungry eyes. _Uh. I guess he's thirsty too._ The walk back was as beautifully painful as the walk to the bottle. Each step brought a nudge on the gland, which brought a strain on his cock, which brought a clench on his hole. Nudge, strain, clench, step, nudge, strain, clench, step, nudge, strain, clench, step, nudge, strain, clench. He couldn't help the tension in his every muscle. 

He felt so close to orgasm, his whole body was shaking under the strain. But the nudge still wasn't enough. A small sob got pass his lips. Tears where falling from his eyes and he never thought a man could be as wet as he was without coming. He only stopped once for a few seconds, but it was enough to send a flare of pain through Douglas' collar, so he bravely continued to walk until he reached the bed. When he finally reached it, ready to collapse, his feet were barely leaving the floor and each step seemed to stutter with hesitation.

“Good. Subject 9-20, please kneel down in front of the bed. Subject 9-22 turn around on your knees. Good. Subject 9-20, please take both buttocks in your hands and proceed to lick subject 9-22's hole.”

With a perplexed expression, Martin obliged. He had never done this before. The first lick was tentative, done with only the very tip of his tongue brushing against Douglas' entrance. The reaction was immediate; Douglas clenched a couple of times rapidly. Martin tried again, this time with a bit more tongue; a swift lick. Encouraged by Douglas' sigh, Martin tried again: starting at the bottom with the tip of his tongue, he slowly followed the ring of muscle. Around it once, slowly. Another go around even more slowly. When Douglas emitted a groan of pleasure, Martin dipped his tongue inside the entrance, flicked it upward and withdrew it that way. He followed by lapping across the sensitised flesh with the flat of his tongue, applying pressure when he passed the hole.

The sounds Douglas made were absolutely arousing; sighs, moans and groans. Some of them loud some of them restricted to his throat. Martin smiled at the thought that he was the one to reduce Douglas to such noises. When the voice ordered 'Continue and add suction' Martin happily finished his long lap and surrounded the pucker with his lips, sucking it in, then releasing the suction and pushing the tip of his tongue inside Douglas. He pulled the tip out, sucked once more withdrew his lips, very slowly tracing the contour of the ring of muscle with his tongue again. He put a bit of saliva at the entrance and blew softly on it, watching the muscle clench.

Martin pushed his tongue inside Douglas as far as he could and wrapped his lips around to suck, hard. Still sucking, he withdrew his tongue to poke at the hole, teasingly. Another lap, another suction followed by another lap and the voice stopped him.

“Subject 9-22, now go drink.”

Douglas let out a loud groan as he pushed himself up to his feet. He was really hard, his cock almost purple, slick with the pre-come he couldn't help but spend, and the veins jutting out beautifully across the enormous length. Martin licked his lips at the sight, barely registering what that meant. Douglas looked lick-able, plain and simple.

He stared at Douglas walking to the bottle with a slight sting of jalousie _How come he doesn't have anything up his ass?_ But it died quickly, remembering the pain Douglas had felt when Martin couldn't walk any more. When Douglas got to the bottle, he looked at it for a few seconds before turning his head towards Martin with an eyebrow up his hairline and a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips, then he turned back and began to drink.

 _Oh. My. God._ The sight of Douglas practically giving a blow job to the water bottle was mouth watering. Martin gaped at him, forgetting to blink. No wonder Douglas had looked at him like that earlier! 

When the voice stopped Douglas, the man turned to Martin with a sly smile. The expression, coupled with the need in his eyes and the fully erect throbbing, leaking cock between his legs gave Martin shudders of arousal. He bit his lip against the painful need in his lap. Mentally begging to voice to let him touch himself, to find release. He should have been careful what he wished for.


	4. A Bit of Active Spooning.

“We will need to study the data we have collected so far. In the mean time, subject 9-22, please go on your hands and knees on the bed, subject 9-20 take the contraption at your feet and place it on subject 9-22. Attach his hand to the strap on the bed.”

Martin looked down at his feet and saw something that looked like it was make of bands of heavy cotton. He took some time to figure out how to put it on Douglas and, mindful of both their erections, strapped Douglas in the thing. One band around his torso, under his arms, one band just above his bellybutton. Two vertical strap connected the two bands together and two other went around his shoulders. Two other vertical straps started from the lowest horizontal one to each of his thighs where another horizontal strap encircled each leg. Two extra straps ended up on each of Douglas' wrists and he passed the connecting band inside the little extra material protruding out of the mattress' sheets. There was an awful lot of extra strap he didn't know what to do with, so he left them there.

“Good. Subject 9-20 insert yourself inside of subject 9-22. Lubricant will be found on the floor. Please be aware that if either of you reach your release, necessary consequence will be applied to both of you.”

 _All so matter of fact, like I wasn't about to fuck my best friend in a less than semi-consensual context!_ Martin took the bottle of lube that had appeared on the floor, out of nowhere. He applied a generous amount on his hand, not knowing if he's going to have permission to prepare Douglas with more than what he did earlier with his tongue. 

He closed his eyes and clenched his teeth as he applied the lubricant on himself. He was shaking with need and had been so, so close from release and yet so far for such a long time; applying the lube without surrendering to the bliss was an exploit in itself. He pushed a slick finger inside Douglas, waiting to see if his collar would buzz. 

When it didn't, he continued to finger Douglas. One, then two fingers easily slipping in, after all the licking he had done. He pushed and pulled them in and out, stretching the walls, bending his fingers this way and that. He added a third finger and twisted his hand inside with each push, Douglas was moaning on the mattress, pushing back on the fingers. After about a minute, a slight buzz started in his collar. Martin took the warning and slowly pulled his fingers out. He aligned himself on Douglas' entrance and with his hand, squeeze one of his friend's legs in reassurance. Douglas nodded, his forehead on his arms, presenting his ass to Martin. With a deep breath, Martin pushed inside.

He heard Douglas gasp softly when he breached him. The captain waited a bit and then pushed forward. Douglas' moan mixed with his own. With a shuddering breath he forced himself to calm down: it wouldn't do to get punished for reaching release so close to the goal. After a time he pushed a bit more, and a bit more. Douglas felt tight and warm around him, clenching sporadically. _It feels so good. God! If we get out of this alive I think I just might... Oh who am I kidding? He'll never want anything to do with me again! And who would blame him? I am practically raping him._

His thoughts weren't bright and happy but they did help him to delay his orgasm a bit more. As soon as he was fully sheathed, the voice talked again:

“Good. Subject 9-20, without removing yourself, please strap yourself on the contraption you fitted around subject 9-22 earlier.”

Martin awkwardly obeyed, trying to find out how to strap himself. Once he did, he found he was strapped pretty much the same way Douglas was but attached to the older man, instead of the mattress. His arms were held on each side of Douglas' torso, going under the man's arm and over the shoulders, where he wrapped his fingers.

“Good. Please don't move as the contraption will adjust itself.”

To Martin's surprise, the straps shortened to fit him and Douglas snugly. He could still move, but not by much and certainly couldn't get out of Douglas completely, probably even if he wasn't hard any more.

“Good. We will now leave you to study the data. While we are studying the data you are free to speak. Subject 9-20 you will have the choice of trying to reproduce with subject 9-22 or to stand still. Please be advise that standing still will bring on a new test until you decide to reproduce again. Orgasm is encouraged. Good night.”

Martin swallowed hard, 

“Sorry, I'm so, so sorry, Douglas.. I... I...” He felt tears filling up his eyes again. He pressed his forehead in between Douglas' shoulder blades. Douglas groaned.

“It's okay, Martin, really. I didn't have a choice, and neither did you. What would make it better, though is if sir would obligingly _move_ ” He punctuated his last word with a groan and a push against Martin's cock.

The slight movement made him see stars, he began rocking his hips experimentally. He had been denied for so long he felt on hair trigger.

“Lord! Sorry, Douglas... I... can't...”

And he came, after only a few jerks. This was one of the most incredible orgasm Martin had felt in his life. He sagged against Douglas, who grunted under the weight and tried to reorient himself to get some friction on the bed. Douglas didn't get the time to move much that Martin tensed and dug his fingernails in Douglas' shoulder.

 _What the hell?!_ The butt plug had started to move. There was movement at his entrance, as if tiny marble where held inside the silicon wrapping of the plug and moved around the shaft. The plug itself seemed to be fucking him slightly, making small up and down movement starting at its widest point and, on top of that, the very tip was rotating on itself in a circular motion that brought the slightly bent shape to brush over and over against his prostate, sometime slightly, sometime with force, depending on the height of the plug at the moment. 

Martin clung hard on Douglas, letting a whimper go. So much stimulation at once, so soon after his orgasm was nerve wracking. He wasn't even totally soft yet that he felt his cock growing softly inside Douglas again. What was worst was the fact that there was no rhythm to the plug's movements. It all seem aleatory and he couldn't get use to it. Moaning, breathing hard and sobbing, Martin hung for dear life at Douglas, how was asking what was happening. Martin tried to explain about the probing and the turning and the rubbing but how could he when all of his nerve ending where set aflame?

After what felt like days, but was probably only twenty minutes or so, Martin was out of it, his head turning this way and that. He was completely hard again but the inconsistent beat of the plug didn't let him release himself. Until Douglas, probably uncomfortable, filled with a hard shaft, rocked a bit back a forth. Just enough friction to make the plug stop moving. In a shuddering whimper, Martin started to move in and out of Douglas, remembering the voice's words.

Still shaking, he fucked Douglas has best he could. He was exhausted by the sensations of the plug and his earlier orgasm, having had no time to recuperate. Douglas helped him greedily, trying to get himself off, not having had a release, yet. Martin was able to get enough control back in his limbs to orient himself a bit better and nudge Douglas' prostate with every push. Soon, the first officer was a puddle of moans and groans, Martin tried to hold back on the speed of each stroke to make the moment last so has not to make the plug start again too soon. The slow building rhythm was amazingly good. Never had he forced himself to stay at such a slow speed for so long and, from the calls of 'fastermoremoremorefasterpleasefastermore' that came out of Douglas' mouth in a whisper, neither did he.

Martin could feel every clench Douglas made around him each time he hit the prostate. The pilot was so hot and slick from his own spilled semen and felt great. A small pool of pre-come was wetting the bed under Douglas' prick, the man leaking like a badly closed tap. Eventually, the slow build-up was enough to send Douglas over the edge. He clenched hard and Martin had no choice but to stop moving if he didn't want to come right away, making the plug start its ministration all over again in a non-rhythm that sent him near edge without ever crossing it. Douglas shuddered a long time under him, ultimately collapsing on the mattress, no longer able to hold his and Martin's weight.

After giving him a few moments to recover, Martin started moving slowly again. The position he was in now made it harder to maintain the slow movement; Douglas, having collapsed on the bed, had his legs a lot closer to each other then they were previously. Martin struggled on, not wanting to be on the plug's business end after a second orgasm in not enough time. When Douglas came to, he pulled his legs apart a little, with what looked like to be all the strength he had left.

“Won't you stop?”

The sleepy tone and the question almost made Martin laugh. As if he could!

“Can't. You.. remember? Other... test? Butt plug. Moving.”

He put his head on Douglas' back. He honestly wasn't able to put a sentence together. He move a bit and found Douglas' prostate again. 

“Oh... Martin, not... ah... too soon...”

“Welcome. Ngh... Tomyside.”

He kept on hitting the glad every chance he got. If he was going to suffer like this all night, he damn well wasn't going to be the only one! What he didn't count on was Douglas clenching his ass again and again. Straining with the effort to resist for a time, Martin let go and pounded Douglas as hard as he could in the limits of their restrain, hitting the gland over and over again, making his unwilling partner hard again while he succumb to the joy of release for the second time in under an hour.

Of course the joy was short lived, for as soon as the pleasure wave began to fade, the plug started moving again, grinding against his entry, pumping up and down, stretching him from the inside, slightly touching his prostate slowly and then slamming into it repeatedly three or four times.

They continued like that for a while, When Martin got hard again he started to move, to leave his behind a chance to recover from the stimuli, his slow movement directly on Douglas' prostate made him hard in turn. Douglas would try to get friction from the sheets to find release sooner than with only his prostate being probed and when he came, he made sure to clench so hard that he'd bring Martin over the edge with him.

After the fourth orgasm, though, Martin wasn't really realising what was happening around him any more. The small moans and whimpers he emitted where the only sounds he could make, and coherent thought had left a long time ago. He would alternate between moving and getting buggered by the plug without even really knowing if he was hard or not, just trying to find a release from the unceasing stimulations, but loosing either way. In the back of his mind he worried about the lack of lubrication on Douglas. His last orgasm certainly felt dry. Douglas himself wasn't moving much; moaning and whimpering only a little.

“Good. Stop.”

The voice felt like a relief. Martin let out a sob of relief. He felt the contraption loosen around him and disappearing the same way his clothes had.

“Subject 9-20, please extricate yourself from subject 9-22.”

As slowly as he could, Martin moved his hips and go out of Douglas. He heard a whimper coming from his friend and he hoped nothing permanent had happen. Martin had no idea what the voice told him after that: He promptly fainted on top of Douglas.


	5. A Bounding Breakfast.

Martin woke up with a bit of a headache. He groaned and opened his eye slowly, trying to remember why he felt like a cement truck had rolled over him a few time. 

All he could see was skin. Very comfortable and warm skin, on which he was currently cuddled to. Martin frowned a bit. _What..._ No time to finish that thought that the skin groaned. Realisation hit Martin like a ton of bricks.

 _Right. Douglas. Aliens._ He gave a tentative squeeze of his buttocks and groaned, closing his eyes. _So. Douglas. Aliens. Butt plug. Why couldn't this be a weird fucked-up dream? Why does it have to be real?_

He opened his eyes again when Douglas moved a bit. _Okay... awkward. What now?_ Casting looks around, trying desperately to find something that makes sense, Martin saw he was all but hugging Douglas with one of his arm. Slowly, trying not to wake his co-pilot, Martin took his hand away. He stayed there, on his side, pressed on Douglas' back, with his hand floating above the two of them, trying to figure out the best course of action. He twisted a bit so his back rested on the bed, cringing when his over-worked abdomen muscles sent protesting cries of pain. He lowered his hand to let it rest on his tummy, closing his eyes, and took some big breath to try and calm down.

_Hmm, smells like coffee and croissant... Wait, what?_

He opened his eyes and saw a low table had appear, a few feet from the bed, absolutely loaded with food. From where he was he could see croissant, bread, strawberries, apples, cheese, and coffee. His stomach growled furiously and his mouth filled with saliva. He couldn't remember clearly the last time he ate ( _before boarding Gerti?_ ), but after yesterday's antics he was understandably famished.

He forced his unwilling muscle to push him in a sitting position. A shudder passed through him has the plug settled, the tip pushing against his prostate. He felt to sensitised, the lightest movement felt enormous. He managed to more or less crawl to the table and sit on the floor, crossed legged, with only one or two whimpers escaping his throat. He spotted a big flask of water and filled a glass, thankful to be spared the walk to the bottle, which he emptied in one go before filling it again.

The choice was really astounding. He could now see that pancakes and berries of all kind, yoghurt, porridge, three kinds of cereals, jam, eggs, ham, sausages, bacon, orange juice and tea were also available. 

He was nibbling on a buttery croissant when he heard Douglas moved and groan on the bed behind him. Martin kept very still.

“Is that coffee I smell?”

Douglas' normally smooth and deep voice was a bit mumbly from sleep and raw, probably from last night. 

“Yes. T-there's tea, too if you.. if you prefer...”

“While I agree that there is nothing better than a good cup of tea on a morning after a night of wonderful sex, I think today calls for something a bit stronger.”

Martin blushed. Did Douglas just said the night was wonderful or had he just said the complete opposite? Martin, still crossed legged, drew his knees to his chest trying to ignore both the feeling of the plug and the tiny mix feeling of shame and pleasure at Douglas' words. He didn't have a choice last night, of course, but if Douglas meant last night had been wonderful, who wouldn't like the compliment? And if he meant it had been horrible and scaring, well... There was nothing to do about it.

Behind him Douglas groaned has he pushed himself up from the bed to paddle to the table. He knelt next to Martin slowly, his limbs looking as reticent to movement has Martin's were, and gingerly lowered himself on his legs. His faced showed almost nothing of the discomfort he surely must be feeling at sitting after an entire night of anal sex.

“Hmm” Douglas purred after his first sip of coffee “good stuff.” He took some eggs and a croissant and began eating. Martin watched him from the corner of his eyes, picking his way slowly on his own croissant. How does one makes conversation in their current ordeal? What was the protocol? Should he apologise again? He should. He certainly felt like apologising. So he took a big breath to start but didn't have a chance to use it when Douglas started speaking.

“If you're about to apologise again, Martin, know that it's quite unnecessary.”

Martin frowned and open his mouth to object, but was cut-off again by Douglas who seemed on a roll.

“Firstly you didn't have a choice. The 'necessary control' that would have been applied to both of us if you had failed to comply would probably have been a lot worse than whatever it is they ask us to do. 

“Secondly, need I remind you that I, too, did some things on you without you consent. I should apologise as well. 

“And thirdly... thank you. I know you had a choice to make and you chose me. Granted the other choice was a chicken, but considering how that poor bird met his end, I'd say you saved my life. And if all I have to do in order to repay you for this is to have orgasm upon orgasm and feeling a bit sore in the morning, then I'm happy to oblige. Besides... You're not a half-bad shag.”

That last statement was met by the signature Douglas Richardson Smirk. Martin was really red at that point and refused to meet Douglas' eyes. He nodded, to signify he understood and would not be apologising again.

They both ate and drank their fill of food, juice and water in semi-comfortable silence. They were both nursing their latest cup of coffee when the dreaded voice spoke.

“Test Subject 9-22, please step inside the Rem-8-val”

Douglas frowned, setting his cup down, looking around to figure out what a 'Rem-8-val' was. After a few seconds, he flinched hard.

“Oi! No need to grow impatient! I'll go in your bloody thing as soon as I figure out what it is you mean!”

“Please step inside the Rem-8-val, near your water supply.”

Both men looked at the big water bottle and saw that the big rectangular box near it had grown a door. With a small look back at Martin, Douglas got up and slowly limped his way to the Rem-8-val. Swallowing nervously, Martin watched him close the door after stepping inside. There was no sound to help him identify what was happening. He took small sips from his coffee without really tasting it.

After about 15 minutes, the door opened again and a fresh-looking Douglas got out with almost a spring in his step. The transformation was brutal, but the wave of relief at seeing Douglas was all right was too strong to get worried by little things.

“You look well...”

“Absurdly fantastic. I'll need to get my hands on one of those...”

“Test Subject 9-20, please step inside the Rem-8-val”

Martin got up slowly, wincing as the plug moved, and walked towards the machine, trying to ignore the probing. He got in and closed the door, fear gnawing at his insides. _Douglas was all right: you'll be all right. Douglas was all right: you'll be all right. Unless of course that wasn't Douglas and they've replaced him with an android or something and as soon as we get back he's going to start killing everyone.... Breathe! It wasn't an android and it's all right..._

A soft light glowed from the walls and a prickling sensation started all over his body, more of an odd sensation than an uncomfortable one. His hair started to stand straight up on his head and a gush of warm wind swirled around his body. The need to pee he was feeling just a moment ago vanished, as if his insides had suffered the same treatment his clothes had earlier. The ache in his butt went away, too, though unfortunately the annoying plug stayed put. He felt all his various aches diminish, one by one, until he couldn't feel them any more. When the door opened, Martin felt great, like he was rested, washed and relieved.

The table had disappeared and Douglas was sitting near the heap of leather.

“Subject 9-20, please go over to where subject 9-22 is sitting.”

Martin did as he was told, his walk making him slightly hard because of the plug. When he got there he saw that the bits of metal and leather looked a lot like bindings. He closed his eyes and sighed. _Will this never end?_

“Subject 9-22, please bind subject 9-20 with the contraption we are showing you.”

They both looked at the pile. A long bar of metal, ended with a leather bracelet on each end glowed. Its sight made Martin groan, _This is bound to be uncomfortable_ , and Douglas chuckle. He started to attach one of the bracelet to one of Martin's ankle when a square of floor rose slowly. Martin watched it rise even as Douglas brought his legs wider apart to fit the second bracelet on the other ankle. The floor stopped rising at about the height of his hips. Martin fought to find equilibrium, attached as he was with his legs sprayed at lot further apart than was comfortable.

“Subject 9-20, please lay on the table on you stomach, legs on the floor.”

With some help from Douglas, who looked like he was fighting hard the need to laugh, Martin kind of wiggled awkwardly to the table and bent over it. The 'table' was long enough to accommodate his body, but his head wasn't supported.

“Good. Subject 9-22, please clip the bar on the floor and then attach subject 9-20 with the contraption we are showing you.”

Martin supposed there must have been a ring or something on the floor because he felt his feet being dragged a bit toward the table, making his rear go up, and heard a clicking sound. Douglas then came in his line of vision and bounded his wrists together with a long band of leather. They looked in each other's eyes for a moment while Douglas was encircling his wrists. Both were nervous but Martin was unbelievably glad to see the reassurance in Douglas' eyes. It was stupid, really, whatever would happen Douglas had very little say on the matter, but Martin grasp at that reassurance like a child to his security blanket. A loop on the floor glowed and Douglas fixed the carabiner clips that hung at each end of the strap to the loop. Thus bound, Martin could hardly move and he had to fight a slight panic attack at not being free of movement. The hand Douglas put on his shoulder blade helped a lot.

“Good. Subject 9-22, please use the remaining contraption on subject 9-20. Subject 9-20, please hold still while the contraption are being put on you and do not fight the upcoming events or necessary control will be applied. You have nothing to fear.”

“That's not as reassuring as you seem to think it is.” Martin mumbled. Then Douglas brought a gag to his mouth and he could no longer talk. The gag wasn't too big, but it had an elongated shape that pressed on the tip on Martin's tongue.

“I've always wanted to see you in one of these...” Douglas said when he finished fastening the gag. Martin narrowed his eyes at him, making Douglas chuckle. Then a blindfold was brought to his eyes. _Must be some quality blindfold, that! I can't even see a hint of light._ Martin caught himself on the thought and berated his mind for holding such trivial thoughts. He felt Douglas' hand on his back again, making him start. A whisper to his ears:

“I'm going to put earplug in you ears, now. I'll try my best to stop anything that would be too much, all right?”

Martin 'hmpfed' through the gag and nodded slightly. He knew those were empty words, but he was grateful nonetheless. The blind fold wasn't the only thing of surprising quality: the earplugs were the most efficient earplugs Martin had ever experienced. Not a sound from outside his body came to him. All he could hear was the whooshing of his blood in his ears. When Douglas' hand disappeared from his back, he was alone.


	6. See no Evil, Ear no Evil, Speak no Evil.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 6. In which sex happens (gasp!) and Martin shivers a lot. I need to buy a synonyms dictionary...

For some reason, not knowing what the voice said, or seeing what Douglas was about to do, made every touch more present. Douglas rubbed the small of his back with his hand and Martin felt a small tug at the plug. _Yes! Finally, oh lord, yes, please!_ He relaxed his muscles as much as he could to help Douglas in the removal of the wretched plug. The plug twisted a bit, from side to side, its bumpy texture sending shivers up Martin's spine. It pulled a bit, reluctant to get out, and then it gave. Martin bit the gag and groaned. Douglas was pulling very slowly on the plug, twisting it now and then. Martin pushed is body as much as he could toward the plug, arousal spreading through his body against his will. The hand on the small of his back slid to his left cheek and slowly rubbed up and down.

When the largest part of the plug passed, Martin moaned at the loss and shivered at the oozing of heavy liquid slowly coming out of his entrance and sliding down his thighs. The plug was pulled a bit more, sliding with ease, as if the plug had been self-lubricating all this time, and just when it had reached a width smaller than the one Martin had had to get use to, making him moan with delight, the plug was slowly pushed back in. Martin whine in protest, resting his head on one of his biceps. It stopped moving at the largest part, making his muscles clench and unclench rapidly around it, trying to adjust to the new stretch. Douglas' hand left and the only sensations Martin was left to feel where his arm, the gag and the blindfold on his face, the table underneath him, and the plug stretching him.

Martin began to wiggle a bit, trying to make the plug move, letting little needy noise escape his mouth around the gag. Nothing happened for a very long time and when it did, it wasn't what Martin was hoping. The plug was pushed back in and started moving again, the marbles rolling around his entrance, the tip probing at his prostate and the biggest width moving up and down. He felt himself tremble and whimper at the assault, his cock growing hard. The plug slowed to a stop after a couple of minutes and was pulled out slowly, making more lubricant slide slowly down his legs, and again stopping at the widest part for a while.

With nothing to prepare him, no touch nor sound, the plug was abruptly wrenched out of him, making Martin gasp a groan, and something about as big as the plug was rammed inside him, hitting his prostate full force and making him see stars. Two hands were put on just above his hips and the ramming continued; hard push in his heavily lubricated canal, finding the sensitive glad almost every time, followed by fast pulls out, almost getting out of him. The cock was big and stretch him inside in a wonderful way with each stroke in. 

Martin felt the plug's lubricant slid out of him a bit with each pounding, slowly sliding down the smooth skin of his thighs, tickling his perineum, sliding down his balls making him shiver with delight. Each hard stroke in made his erected shaft hit the side of the table. This, coupled with the pounding on his prostate made Martin want to beg for more. It was all so overwhelming. His hands gripped at the length of leather available and he vocalized, as much as he could behind the gag, the waves of pleasure going through him.

And just like that he was alone again. The hands and cock left him on the table to pant and whine at the loss. Feeling nothing after such stimulation was disorienting. Martin shivered. He tried to move his pelvis to get some friction from the table but a sharp bite in his neck from the collar stopped him. He rubbed his head on his arms, moaning, feeling the slick lube slowly but steadily dripping with each clench of his abused hole, coating the side of thighs and the back of his sack, making him yearn for more. 

He felt the bar tug at his feet. Martin lowered himself on the table and his feet where pulled up. He felt an arm around his thighs and a hand was pushing the side of his torso, making him turn on his back. His hands still over his head, his feet were pushed up to a bit more than a ninety degree angle, and hung on the ceiling, somehow. And he was alone again.

It didn't last too long, however, before something else was forcefully pushed in his leaking hole. Something big and cold. Very, very cold. He yelled around the gag, trashing as he could in his restrains, trying to get away from the cold as best he could. The cold thing was wrenched out and back in again a few times. Martin's toes were curled and he was biting hard on the gag. It didn't hurt but he felt like he was cooling from the inside out. 

It stopped moving and was left there, inside him. Martin shivered with cold, still trying to get away with small jerks, almost reflexes. 

A strap of some kind was put around his pelvis and fitted him to the table, preventing him to move if he pulled on his legs. A warm hand took his penis and held it up. Martin tried to push up in the hand, but the strap held on. Noises were coming out of his throat, begging for more of the heat on his groin battling with the cold in his behind. He gave a start when something colder than his skin fell on the slit of his cock. It stung a bit. An odd feeling happened. It was like something was applying pressure on the tip of his shaft, and then the pressure continued pass the tip and down, slowly, slowly, down _inside_ of him. Martin shivered, both from the stretching cold in his ass and the weird sensation in his cock.

 _What is that? What is he... ugn!... lord... what is he_ doing _? That's so odd.. oh! Hmm. Yes! Weird. Hmm. GOOD!_

The pressure continued to go slowly down, and when it arrived at a very nice place that made him jerk in his restrains and moan, it seemed to rotate on itself, sending shivers down Martin's spine and stars in his head. The pressure went back up a bit, then back down to tease that spot again, and it withdrew completely. Martin drew in a shuddering breath through his nose, unclenching his jaw around the gag and let out a moan. It had felt so good, and yet so alien, he wanted more of this. Just as he felt himself relax, the cold thing in his ass pounded him a couple of time, hitting the prostate, but all his inside were so cold it felt like it happened to someone else. Still, the sensation was good, and when it stopped and the pressure came back on the top of his penis, Martin was moaning with pleasure. 

There was a bit more pressure this time. He felt himself stretch from inside. The pressure went slowly down. When it stopped, the warm hand still around his length squeezed its fingers one after the other around him and unclenched in the same way. Martin moaned; never before had he felt something so good. The pressure continued to press down, slowly, turning on itself again when it reach _that_ spot. Martin tried to wriggle in his binds, but it proved impossible to move, still. He trashed his head form side to side, sweat, tears and spit mixing with each other on his face and arms, making indescribable sounds around the gag.

When the pressure left again, the cold thing inside him, that now felt a lot smaller, almost like it has melted, was pushed back in and out a couple of times. A frigid liquid slipped out of him and sliding down the skin between his cheeks at the movement.

His feet were unhooked from the ceiling and slowly brought down, and the strap around his pelvis vanished. A gentle touch on his side pushed him back on his stomach while a hand carefully gathered his throbbing member. He was grateful for that latter, because when he succeeded to turn to his stomach, it was without any grace nor coordination and it occurred to him that he could have squeezed himself painfully on the table. The hand around his shaft let go, but the hand on his side, a reassuring presence, slid on his back, his hips, down his legs to his ankles before the bar pushed at Martin's feet locking them in their previous position, pushing his buttock in the air. Martin wriggled his toes against the tingly feeling in his feet as the blood rushed back in.

He felt the cold thing being removed and a warm pressure was applied at his entrance. The tip went slowly in, making him whimper with need when it breached him. A hand was on his left hip, a thumb stroking idly at a tiny portion of his back. Another hand was put on his shoulder blade. With a small squeeze on his hip to warn him, Douglas went in, burying himself in one powerful thrust. Martin felt the other man's hands clench a bit. He guessed Douglas was feeling the cold left behind by the cold thing. For his part, Martin found Douglas to be radiating warmth.

Douglas started moving again, hesitantly at first but rapidly going back to the pounding. The strokes were slick, some of the plug's lubricant must have still be in him, or maybe the cold thing really had melt to leave behind a lubricating agent. Martin rested his forehead on his arms and let himself be buggered to ecstasy; The in and out pull against his entrance, the repeated slamming of his prostate, not being able to hear a thing out of his lover's movement, his cock hitting the table with each forward push, and the oh so very warm feeling of Douglas inside him, reviving his nerves after having the cold thing inside him for so long. All those things seemed to melt into each other, not one sensation able to be felt alone, like everything and nothing was all happening at once and separately.

A pressure on his back, pressing him on the table, the angle of the cock inside him sifting for a better position. Pull. The hand on his hips, sliding upward to press on his side, underneath his arm. Hard push. More pressure on his back has the hand on his shoulder blade went to cling the top of his right biceps. Pull. Soft lips on the nape of his neck. Push. Stars. Moan. Pull. A rumble against his back, like someone's groan felt through the skin. Hard push. Lips on his neck. A tongue? Strong pull. Half a thrust, slowly, before finishing the movement hard and fast. Huff of breath around the gag. Warmth against his right ear, suction. Pull. Teeth sliding on his lobe, before the lips let go. Push. A finger sliding between the table and his left nipple. Moan. Pull. Lips on his neck. Push. Stars. Pull. Kiss. Push. Whimper. Tongue. Pull. Teeth grazing the skin joining the neck and the torso. Push. Nipple. Shiver. Pull. Lick on his spine from the middle of his shoulder blades to the back of his head. Moan. Push. Lips on the junction of his neck. Suction. Pull. Lips. Whimper. Tongue. Push. Moan. Rumble. Pull. Teeth. Push. The teeth bit down on his neck, the hands on his skin clenched, a shiver passed in the body pressing on his back. Pull. Push. Biting harder. Pull. Push. Stars. Pull. Harder bite, still. Push. A warm, happy feeling growing from the pit of his stomach and spreading to each particles of his body. 

Flying.


	7. "I'm All Alone; There's No One Here"

A tongue was licking his neck, were the skin had been bitten. Slow licks, followed by small kisses. Martin was still. Limp but shaking from the orgasm, his head and arms hanging from the table, his knees bent slightly. The table slid back down on the floor, slowly letting him rest in an horizontal position, the comforting pressure on his back not leaving, two hands going up and down on his arms, calmly, reassuringly, soothing his trembling body. Licks and kisses still going on on his abused neck. Martin let himself bask in the afterglow.

After a while, unfortunately, the nice feeling of being limp felt more and more like being sore. He twitched one of his hands, making the mouth's work on his neck stop abruptly. The hands where still stroking, though, and a warm breath was tickling the base of his skull. 

Martin felt the soft length inside him slide slowly out, making him shiver and moan, his hole left to clench around nothing but air after having been stretched for so long. The pressure on his back and the hands on his arms left him; he was alone again. 

Uncomfortably empty, sore and alone. His shaking intensified. Martin waited. Surely Douglas would come back. He forced himself to breath deeply, as much as he could. His backside was still trying to adjust itself to the empty feeling, lube and sperm still leaking out of him, his legs standing very wide apart from one another. And no one came. He curled up a bit on himself, on his side, pulling on his restrain. He had been so full of sensation a few minutes ago, being so empty of stimuli was excruciating. A small whimper got out and, though he tried very hard not to, tears ran down his face. 

He had no idea howl long he was left there, lost in the dark, trembling, left behind. It felt like months. 

He jumped, letting out a scared noise around the gag and trying to curl on himself more when a something cupped the back of his head. He felt his ankles being freed and he convulsively brought his knees to his chest. A couple of seconds later and his hands were no longer attached to the floor, though still bound, and he brought his elbows in front of him while warm arms were gathering him. He was pulled from the floor slowly and hugged while a hand unfastened his gag. Martin took a shuddering breath and let out a sob when the gag was carefully pulled away from his mouth, and he pushed his face on the warm neck of the person holding him. He continued to shudder and cry while the ear plugs where carefully removed and a smooth voice could be heard, whispering from above his head while hands rubbed up and down at his arm and back.

“I'm sorry. I'm sorry. It's okay. Shhh. It's okay, I'm here, I've got you, Martin, It's okay, I'm sorry.”

The words kept going, washing over Martin, calming his shaking as much as the reassuring strokes on his arm and back. Eventually the shaking stopped, leaving place to an intermittent shudder, and the tears grew silent. The hands stopped their stroking, never leaving his skin, and started to unbind his hands, the words still being whispered in his ears.

“It's okay, I'm sorry. I've got you. I'm not leaving, I'm here. Sorry. It's okay.”

When his hands were free, Martin put his arms around Douglas, clutching as hard has he could. He didn't care if it was awkward, he didn't care if Douglas made fun of him for this latter; he felt like if he let go of Douglas, the man would disappear again, leaving him alone for good this time.

The hands resumed their stroking; one on his back, the other on his head, petting him a bit before removing the blindfold. Trembling and sniffing, Martin blinked a couple of times to adjust to the light. He relaxed his grip on Douglas a bit, trying to calm completely down. He felt drained. The orgasm had been physically taxing and the fear had robbed what little mental energy he still had. He sagged on Douglas and let himself be petted and reassured for a while before whispering the only question on his mind.

“Why?”

Douglas hugged him tighter. It felt good.

“I'm sorry. I didn't want to. They asked me to go in the rem-8-val without touching you. When I tried to make them see sense, my collar sent a strong pain signal and I am sorry, and ashamed, to say that I was coward enough to leave you there after that, and to do as I was told. The cleaning process lasted longer than it had earlier, I'm afraid. I'm sorry, nobody should be left alone in a state of sensory deprivation without any explanations. I'm sorry.”

Martin shook his head against Douglas' chest and hugged him a bit more strongly for a second. It wasn't Douglas' fault. 

“They could have killed you. I'm just... I.. I'm glad you ca-came back...”

The end of his sentence was in such a low whisper, Martin wasn't sure if Douglas had heard him. The hug did intensified slightly, but it could have been for the first part of his little speech. 

Martin felt good there, in these arms, and he let himself be hugged too tightly. He didn't resent Douglas at all. He hated the voice. Martin buried his face deeper in Douglas' neck, breathing in deeply Douglas' smell, wishing he could...

“Good. Subject 9-22, please exchange saliva with subject 9-20.”

Martin recoiled fractionally at the sound of the voice. He looked upwards to see an apology in those two big warm eyes. Martin smiled in was he is hoping to be a reassuring way up at Douglas and angled his head back to let Douglas kiss him.

His tongue and jaw, deprived of movement for a long time, latched in the kiss hungrily. Martin idly wondered why the voice kept asking them to kiss. Not like he minded or anything: Douglas was a great kisser and, right now, it was exactly what he wanted to do. He kept his eyes open, not wanting to go back to the dark so soon again, and looked as Douglas closed his. The hand that was petting his head moments ago now knotted his hair in a fist and pull Martin as close as physically possible to deepen the kiss. Fingernails scraped his back, and a moan escaped him. Martin pushed forward, making Douglas lay down under him on the floor. He put his hands on either side of Douglas' face, stroking the soft grey hair, cupping the jaw. Douglas, one hand still tangled in Martin's hair, grabbed one of his arse cheeks with the other, pulling him a bit more higher to they could kiss more properly.

“Good. Now stop.”

Both men stopped kissing. Douglas put his head on the floor and looked at the ceiling, trying to catch his breath, Martin put his forehead back on Douglas' neck, panting.

“Subject 9-20, please use the Rem-8-val.”

Martin reluctantly let go of Douglas and got up on shaking legs to walk to the Rem-8-val. He hesitated before closing the door, however. He stole a last look at Douglas and drew a big breath to call his courage and closed the door. The blackness only last a few seconds before the soft glow appeared and he was able to breathe again.


	8. Martin and the Chocolate Factory.

Martin felt better coming out of the Rem-8-val. That thing really was fantastic: He still felt tired, but his body seemed to have recuperate enough. Douglas was sitting on the floor, in front of a table that held food. Martin joined him, sitting as close as he could without touching him.

“All right?”

“Yes. Better.”

Douglas nodded and passed a cup of tea to Martin. 

“Hmm...”

Martin looked at Douglas when he felt his fingers on his neck.

“What?”

“You still have a bite mark.”

“Really?”

He tried to bend his neck enough to look at the bite, which proved impossible.

“Huh. I thought the Rem-8-val took care of all those scratches...”

Douglas let his hand slide to the opposite shoulder blade and trailed his forefinger up and down a diagonal line.

“Yes... and the fingernail scratch is still visible, too, but...”

The hand trailed back to the bite mark and from there followed Martin's arm all the way down to his wrist, apparently blind to the trail of goosebumps he was leaving in his trail.

“... the marks where the leather cut into your skin are gone.” Douglas rubbed his thumb on the soft skin of Martin's wrist, making his shiver. “Almost like it only repaired damages directly left by the 'tests'. Odd. But Anyway: eat! You must be starving; I know _I_ am.”

They tasted a bit of everything on the table, from pies to stews passing by the occasional salads. Everything was good, like each item was the most savoury one of the batch. After maybe half an hour, the table lowered under the floor and came back with strawberries and a big bowl of melted chocolate. They had the time to eat two or three each when the voice decided to interrupt them.

“Subject 9-20, please pour the melted chocolate all over subject 9-22.”

Martin choked a bit on his strawberry, but reached for the bowl nonetheless. He hesitated over Douglas.

“Hum.. how... Where do I pour it?”

“ _All over_ subject 9-22. You're really not getting smarter, are you?”

Martin became bright red with indignation.

“I was only asking because there is hardly enough in the bowl to cover him! I kn-know what 'all over' means!”

A sharp bite in his collar reminded him to stay polite. Martin clenched his teeth together and started to pour the chocolate from the top of Douglas' neck, who had reclined in an almost horizontal position to help him, down his body. Douglas hissed when the warm liquid covered his groin and he jerked his hips a little. The chocolate ran out at about mid-thigh. Martin put the bowl back on the table and awaited new instructions, taking a strawberry and dipping it in a little pool of chocolate at the base of Douglas' neck in the meantime. He smirked at the shocked expression Douglas affected.

“Want one?”

The voice didn't speak again for a few minutes, letting the chocolate first run a bit more around Douglas' body and then harden a little. Douglas was beginning to shift a lot, clearly uncomfortable with his new skin.

“Good.” The voice said when the chocolate had stop running, “Subject 9-20, please clean subject 9-22.”

A bit confused as to why he had to pour chocolate all over Douglas just to clean it afterwards, Martin picked up a napkin on the table. He let it go with a yelp when his collar gave a bite. He spared an angry look at the ceiling, imagining the voice being there, before looking at Douglas with confusion in his eyes. _How am I supposed to clean him if I can't pick up a napkin?_ Douglas almost rolled his eyes at him.

“I'm guessing they want you to clean me another way, Martin...”

“I got that, thank you! But... but how? I really don't see anything else around that could...”

Douglas and the voice both sighed.

“Subject 9-20, please clean subject 9-22 _with your mouth_. Please begin.”

“Oh..”

“Yes, 'oh'.” 

Martin squinted his eyes at Douglas and bent down, hesitantly, deciding to start with the thighs and work his way up. He licked the chocolate a couple of times on the same spot before he realised the reason why the voice had waited before asking him to clean it up: the chocolate wasn't going to melt so easily now. He pressed his mouth on Douglas' thigh and sucked and licked, using his teeth to help scrape the chocolate, until a spot of skin was visible.

Martin lifted his head to lick his lips, all ready full of chocolate, and looked up at Douglas. He quickly put his eyes back down when he saw the look the brown eyes where giving him. Deciding to ignore the hungry look that bore his skull, Martin continued methodically kissing away the chocolate on Douglas' thighs, sometimes taking bigger bites to help speed up the process and switching on the other thigh when the top and the exterior side were clean, letting the sensitive skin of the inner thigh alone for now.

He lapped long, strong licks at the joint of the legs and torso, trying to get every bit that was there, glad when he heard the soft sighs coming out of Douglas' mouth. Martin moved up to the pelvis with a bit more confidence.

It took a long time, but eventually almost all of Douglas was clean. Martin had been extra careful to get every bit of chocolate stuck on the nipples, sucking and nibbling even when the taste was clearly only skin, giving a parting lick when the soft skin was red an erected. He focused on the other one, giving it as much attention as he did the first. The neck had also been a tricky area: all those dips and curves had needed a lot of suction and tongue action. By the time Martin was finished, Douglas had at least five visible hickeys.

Martin lifted his head from Douglas' neck to breath and was about to lick the chocolate out of his lips when Douglas captured his mouth in his. Douglas reclined completely on the floor, bringing Martin back in their earlier kissing position, and applied a lot of dedication to make sure no chocolate was left anywhere in Martin's mouth. And then Martin made sure there wasn't any left in Douglas'.

When it had been very clearly established that all traces of chocolate had melted from everyone's mouth, Martin edged back on his hands and knees to 'clean' the only area left. He took the opportunity to look at Douglas. The sight made Martin almost dizzy from arousal, blood rushing fast to his ears. Douglas was on his back, panting lightly, looking at him with a passion Martin had never quite noticed before in anyone's eyes when they were looking at him. His co-pilot's abused mouth was deep red, glistering with saliva and parted slightly, his cheeks a nice shade of pink. His nipples were red and erected, the rest of his torso was pink with a few smudges of melted chocolate and sporting barely visible teeth marks, and his cock was growing making the chocolate that covered it crack. It took Martin's breath away.

Putting his weight on his knees, Martin grazed his fingernails on top of Douglas' nipples, making him gasp softly and shift minutely. Making his hands slide down slowly, still scratching the skin with his short nails, Martin bent down and swallowed Douglas as deep as he could, locking his eyes with him. He shifted his tongue around and sucked, hollowing his cheeks. Douglas almost closed his eyes completely, letting a throaty sigh escape between his parted lips. He jerked his hips, like he was trying to stop an involuntary movement and closed his hands into fist.

Not relenting on the suction, Martin drew back, sliding his tongue on each bumps and chocolate-covered dips he could feel, applying pressure when he could. He stopped moving when he only had the head in his mouth, still looking into Douglas' eyes. He released the suction, not letting go of Douglas, and slowly swiped his tongue around the tip. He poked at the slit to make sure he had all the chocolate and backed-up his head to let Douglas out of his mouth with a sloppy 'plop'. As he licked his lips, Douglas did the same, not looking away. Martin lifted one of the pilot's knees and finally broke the stare to focus on the inner-thigh.

Starting at the groin, Martin buried himself in Douglas' skin and started licking slowly with the tip of his tongue. He sucked a bit of chocolate-covered soft skin in his mouth and grazed his teeth on it, then pushing against it with the flat of his tongue before using his teeth again. He moved slowly across the thigh, feeling Douglas twitch his hips looking for more friction. When the first thigh was finished, Martin gave a couple of warm, wet licks on Douglas' length before lowering the knee he was holding and pushing the opposite one in the air to give the same treatment to this thigh he gave the other.

Douglas was moaning by the time he was finished with the thigh, his hands on his own hair. Martin grinned at how close Douglas looked to be loosing control, and lapped at the last of the chocolate covering Douglas' beautiful, big, erected cock. He put as little pressure as he could in his licks, alternating their length and duration, and finished the job by cleaning the head of the pre-come with a swirl of his tongue that made Douglas groan.

When he was finished, he put himself on his hands and knees above Douglas' chest and smiled.

“You're cleaned.”

Douglas opened his eyes and groaned. He let go of his hair to grab him, one hand on his arm, the other grabbing Martin's hair with force, and pulled him into a kiss. He moaned into the kiss and after a few seconds of heated and needy kissing, his grasp on Martin's hair relaxed a bit, letting them both draw a breath.

“For... someone who... didn't know what... to do,” Douglas panted, “I think you were quite... the quick learner.”

Martin matched Douglas' grin and returned to the kissing when he felt a pressure on the back of his head.

“ _So_ sorry to disturb you, but this exchange of saliva isn't a part of the test. Subject 9-20 and subject 9-22, please direct yourself to the contraption we are showing you.”

Feeling a very light buzzing from the collar, Martin stopped kissing Douglas. The latter was still flushed and had a small smile on his lips, looking at Martin adoringly. Martin grinned at him, sitting down to Douglas' side to look around for the contraption.


	9. Don't Fall.

A watery noise began behind him. Turning around, Martin saw the lake had grown a small waterfall. It was illuminated. He looked back at Douglas who shrugged.

“Oh! What the hell! Let's find out...”

Douglas got up, a bit awkwardly because of his sizeable erection, and walked to the lake. Martin followed him slowly. After the sensory deprivation test he wasn't really trusting the voice to really give them just a nice shower and be done with it, but Douglas was already standing under the flow of water, letting it hit his back. The view alone of Douglas, fully hard, head bent slightly back, enjoying the water falling from a short distance above him and gliding on his body, pulled Martin to the lake against his better judgement. Not that he really had a choice, if he didn't want his collar to hurt him, but still.

He joined Douglas under the stream of water, surprised to feel it was quite warm. Douglas reached out to brush a wet strand of hair from Martin's eyes, letting his finger slide against his scalp down his neck to rest on his right shoulder, idly brushing the bite mark. Martin stared at him, swallowing hard, confusion in his brain. He had always liked Douglas. Well, no. Not _always_. But in the last year or so the man had become more and more of a close friend. And now Martin felt... 

_It's only the circumstances. Don't let yourself fall: he's still the same Douglas Richardson, Sky God. You think you feel something because of all the endorphins in your body right now. This is not real! And even if it were, there is no way it goes both way... That look in his eye it's... it's... endorphins. Yes. Don't fall... On the other hand, if we never get out of here what wrong could it do?_

Martin's sigh became a gasp when Douglas' mouth pressed on his neck, softly kissing the bite. A hand was on each of his arms, sliding up and down, soothing. 

“Sorry about that.”

A soft whisper, almost inaudible, followed by a lick starting at the bite and ending at the junction of his ear and jaw. Martin sighed, closing his eyes a bit, before shaking his head; he didn't mind the bite. He wanted to say something, but what? He felt safe. He wished he could read Douglas' mind. He opened his mouth to say something, anything, not caring if he'll regret the words later, when the voice screwed with his plans.

“Subject 9-22, please kneel.”

Douglas, not content to simply do as he was told, slowly bent down, kissing and licking a trail from Martin's shoulder, to his right nipple. He stayed there just long enough to suck it in his mouth and bite down lightly on the tip, before continuing down, kneeling. The tongue exploring him stopped at his navel, swirling around, lapping at the sides. Douglas pressed his face on his stomach and took the side of his bellybutton with his teeth, before continuing down, kneeling properly. With a last kiss at the top of his pubic hair, Douglas took his mouth away, to press his forehead on Martin's leg.

They waited like that, Martin breathing hard, warm water cascading down their bodies. Martin played with a lock of Douglas' hair that was near his hand, stroking the man's ear absentmindedly with his thumb.

“Good. Subject 9-20, please be advised that if you reach your release, necessary control will be applied to both of you. Subject 9-22, please arouse subject 9-20 using your mouth. ”

Martin wasn't sure but he thought he heard something sounding very close to “my pleasure” coming from Douglas before he resumed his trail of kisses. He followed the curve of Martin's thigh at a teasing speed, licking every droplet of water in his way. Martin felt Douglas' tongue reach under his cheek, coming back up to follow the curve of his groin, tickling him. His cock, already half hard, grew with the shivers of pleasure Douglas' mouth were producing.

When the tongue had finished its trek upward, Douglas kissed the hairs around his length, grazing his teeth on the skin, continuing slowly towards his destination. The pace was maddeningly slow but finally Douglas reached his cock never stopping his licking kisses. Starting from the very base, he kissed the left side, the top, the right side and underneath. He continued like this, going slowly, slowly toward the head, making Martin unable to stop moaning.

“Ngh... Douglas... I.. stop.. Lord... huh... Douglas I'm... I can't...”

Martin was very tense, eyes screwed shut, his right hand grabbing the wall of the waterfall like his life depended on it, the left hand shaking just above Douglas' head not daring to grab his head. Douglas wasn't even halfway done yet and Martin was so close. He wasn't sure he could hold much longer.

“Douglas! I'mhmmmm... Oh, God, yes! Huh... Stop... I'm... Douglaspleasepleaseplease...”

He felt Douglas' smile against his shaft, not interrupting his kisses. Fingers touch his left ankle, feather-light touch sliding up on his wet leg, turning around his bottom to cup is cheek. The hand stroked the skin there two times before letting the fingers resume their way up on the side of his body, letting a trail of goosebumps behind. A stray thumb passed over the nipple and the fingers went to the arm. The knuckles on Martin's right hand were white. He was beyond words, whimpering, trying to hold the pleasure mounting inside him. The warm water cascading on his back felt like caresses. The kisses hadn't stopped and the fingers were sliding down the sensitive skin of his inner arm.

The fingers grabbed his shaking right wrist and pulled it gently towards Douglas' hair; a permission. Trying to remember to breathe, Martin combed his shaky fingers in Douglas' soft hair and fisted them at the base of the skull. Douglas' lips had reached the head and the kisses stopped to let a warm tongue swirl around it, bringing the shaft inside his mouth. Martin's eye opened wide while a guttural cry ripped his throat. Douglas ignored the fingers clenching harder in his hair and took a big breath before swallowing Martin entirely. Martin's eye grew even wider, a gust of breath leaving his lungs noisily. He spared a thought to be thankful Douglas didn't apply suction, when Douglas started to swallow around him.

Martin bent over Douglas, his knees almost giving up on him. He grabbed Douglas' shoulders with both hand, digging his fingernails in the skin. His eyes were shut once more in concentration. After a few seconds, Douglas put his hands on Martin's hips and pushed him back, letting him go in favour of taking a big breath. Martin didn't move, he let Douglas hold him at his hips while he was clenching at Douglas for support. He heard a chuckle from bellow him.

“Breathe, Martin...”

Martin drew in a jerky breath, trying to come to his senses.

“Who knew all this love for control you have would be useful in here? I'm a bit disappointed, Martin: I did use some of my best moves, just now.”

Martin just huffed a breath in answer.


	10. Lights Out!

“Good. Subject 9-22, please get up and turn around. Subject 9-20, please insert yourself with no preparation inside subject 9-22 and try to procreate, previous warnings are still in place. Subject 9-22, please be advise that if you touch yourself, necessary control will be applied.”

Martin blinked away drops of water. He looked around for lubricant and found a bar soap, which he took and rubbed his hands on it to try and get to most foam. He applied the soap around his cock, trying not to put too much pressure on his strokes, moaning at the sensation. When he felt he was slicked as much as he could, he pressed his head against Douglas' entrance. Douglas was standing with his head on his arms, pressed against the waterfall wall.

Martin pushed in, slowly breaching Douglas. He withdrew when almost all the head was in, tearing a needy noise from Douglas' throat. Martin pushed back in, slowly. 

“No need to go so slo.. Hah! Ohhhmmmm. So slowly Martin. You... Ooooh, do that again. Lord!”

By the time Martin was fully in, Douglas was biting his wrist to keep from making embarrassing noises. The friction with the soap was more harsh than with lubricant, making each slow pull and push more intense. Martin angled himself has best he could to hit Douglas' prostate and from the way Douglas was throwing his head back, he thought he succeeded.

Martin leaned on Douglas' back, rocking his pelvis in the longest, slowest way he was able to. He licked a trail of water that was following Douglas' spine, pressing against each vertebrae. Martin matched the slow pace of his pelvis with his hands, dragging them up and down on top of the older man's nipples, sometimes bringing one hand down to give one or two strike on Douglas' cock but always keeping the same pace making his lover moan.

The slow pace helped to keep him from release, but the soap was rapidly loosing its ability to lubricate and the friction was getting to Martin. The rhythmic beat of the water on his back only sending his nerves on fire more quickly. He tried to distract himself by kissing every inch of Douglas' back but he was soon back to the low whimpers. Every moment he thought _This is it!_ , he surprised himself by lasting a moment longer.

“Subject 9-20, you may find the release in your procreation cycle.”

Never words had sounded so sweet in Martin's ears. With two hard, final thrusts, Martin came. The pleasure was so intense he almost black-out. His arms were compulsively hugging Douglas, who grabbed his wrist to make sure both Martin's arms were tightly hugging him. Not an instant too soon, either, when Martin's knee gave up. The movement brought him out of Douglas too fast to be gentle and he heard a mild groan coming from his co-pilot.

“Subject 9-22, please reciprocate.”

Douglas turned around in Martin's arms, letting his wrist go in favour of hugging him.

“Are you okay, Martin?”

“Very... very, very okay. Can't stand, though. Tired.”

“Would it be all right if I hold you up?”

“Yo.. hol... hmm... yes?”

With a hungry moan, Douglas kissed him. Martin felt like cooked noodles, he was so relaxed, and enjoyed the kiss: returning it as much as his tired muscles were able. Douglas, one hand at a time, unfolded the arms holding Martin in a hug to grasp a cheek in each hand. With a grunt, Douglas lifted him from the wet floor and twisted around. The hard surface of the waterfall wall a contrasting change after the warm flow of water.

It hadn't been so long since Martin had been penetrated by Douglas and he was so relaxed right now, melting into a lovingly kiss, that the lack of preparations didn't cause much discomfort. Martin moaned into the kiss when he felt himself being so completely filled again. Douglas slow strokes felt so good, Martin broke the kiss to put his head against the wall and moaned freely. Douglas immediately launched on his neck again, making Martin smile. He liked Douglas' mouth there. He _loved_ the feel of Douglas' cock inside of him. Douglas wasn't pressing against his prostate often, but the feeling of him alone was enough to make him moan.

Martin lifted his arms. One hand came to rest at the nape of Douglas' neck, stroking the very small hair there, the other combed through Douglas' wet hair from the ear to the back of the head and starting again, petting him. He felt, rather than heard, Douglas moan against his neck. Martin closed his eyes, still moaning almost continuously, to lose himself in the sensations; Douglas' large length stroking slowly and stretching him from inside, Douglas' mouth doing magic on his neck, Douglas' wet hair under his fingers. He clenched his fingers and pulled Douglas away from his neck, lowering his head to kiss him. Martin tightened his arms around Douglas' neck.

When he came up for hair, Douglas went back to his neck. The strokes were becoming slightly less regular when the voice spoke up:

“Subject 9-22, you may find the release in your procreation cycle.”

Douglas moaned against his neck and his strokes, while still slow, grew harder, making Martin lose his breath at every push. Douglas put his teeth at the junction of his neck and torso and bit down hard when he came, one of the teeth puncturing the skin a little. All of Douglas' weight was pressed on Martin, trapping him on the wall. When Douglas came to, he loosened the pressure in his jaw, resting his teeth on Martin's neck a bit. He sucked hard before removing his teeth, sliding his lips on his skin until he released the bite completely. He carefully got out and lowered Martin back on the floor. His arms came around Martin's hips in a tight hug, his mouth still licking and kissing at the bite.

“Do you always bite like that?”

Douglas chuckled and dropped a few more kissed on the bruise before speaking.

“No. Very rarely in fact. Only when... Only when I'm intoxicated.”

Martin turned his neck, wincing as he stretched the bruised skin. Douglas was looking at him with that look again. The one Martin had never been on the receiving end from anyone before, and his felt his heart stutter in his chest. _Endorphins... It's not... It doesn't mean anything. Don't... But what if? No... No, better not..._ He broke the eye contact, lowering his gaze, and put his head on Douglas' chest, breathing the man's smell in, mixed as it was with warm water and soap. Trying to stop thinking.

Douglas hugged him and sighed.

“I apparently broke the skin this time. My apologies.”

Martin just shrugged. When Douglas was biting him, he felt like he was the most important thing in the world for him. He liked the bite marks on his neck. They were probably going to stay for a while. If they ever got out of here it was probably going to be the only thing he'll have left. As traumatic and weird as this was, Martin desperately wanted to keep them as souvenir of what he had, if only for a while.

“Good. Subject 9-20, please go to the Rem-8-val.”

They untangled and Martin walked on uncertain knees towards the machine. Once inside he took the opportunity to take big breaths of air to calm his mind and when he was able to get out his face showed almost nothing of the conflicting emotions going on in his head.

“Subject 9-22, please go to the Rem-8-val.”

Douglas walked toward him, pointing at the bed.

“Nice to know Aliens have _some_ respect: the sheets are clean.”

Martin gave him a tired smile. He noticed Douglas pursing his lips when his gaze fell on the marks probably still visible on both side of Martin's neck.

“I don't mind them, Douglas. It's okay, really.”

Douglas only hummed in answer before stepping inside the machine. Martin walked toward the water bottle and lapped to quench his thirst. He was walking back to the bed, wondering if he'll ever get to fly again, when the lights were suddenly turned off. 

Martin froze. His breathing hitched in his chest and he strained his ears to ear a sound. He was alone again. It lasted seconds. Hours. When the light came back, making him blink against the sudden brightness, he was shaking like a leaf and couldn't get a grip on himself. _Great. Just great. Now I'm afraid of the dark. Like a child. Pathetic..._

He jumped when a hand touched his shoulder.

“Martin?”

He shook his head, not trusting his voice and tried very, very hard not to let the tears in his eyes fall out. _This is ridiculous, great a grip on yourself! You're an airline captain! You're not afraid of the dark._ All his resolves not to cry dissolves moments later when Douglas pulled him into a hug, shushing him. He felt like a child. But feeling Douglas' arms around him felt like such a relief. Martin drew a deep, if shaking, breath:

“I'm fine, fine. It's fine Douglas you don't have to... it's fine. I'm fine.”

“Yes, I see that. Shaking like a leaf in a storm and barely being able to contain your sobs are two of the main symptoms of 'feeling fine'. It's okay, Martin.” Douglas rubbed his arm, “You've experienced something very traumatic earlier today; of course you'd still be affected by it a couple of hours later. I'm sorry.”

“It's not you're fault. I'm being stupid is all.”

“Hush”

Martin let himself be hug hard for the second time that day, trying to stop his tremors. The voice spoke up:

“Sorry about that. There was an... over-use of power in Testing Chamber 70. We will need to study the data we have collected so far. In the meantime, feel free to use the bed as you see fit.”

Martin let out a shuddering breath against Douglas' chest and he let himself be stirred toward the bed. Douglas sat with him on the side of the bed and then tugged Martin to lay down; Martin's face still buried in Douglas' chest, Douglas still hugging him. Eventually Martin's trembling ceased and he dried his eyes with his hands.

“Sorry about that. It's stupid.”

“What happened?”

“Nothing, really. The lights went out and there was no sound coming from anywhere. That's all. But I.. I-I felt like... l-like...”

A shiver ran down his spine.

“Like when I let you alone earlier today?”

“Wasn't your fault, Douglas.”

“But that's how you felt.”

It wasn't a question, but Martin nodded anyway. He felt Douglas hug him harder.

“I am really, truly sorry about that, Martin. Choice or not. I have no idea how to make it better.”

“T-th... well... This is...that is to say... I-I... I li...”

“Hugging you helps?”

Martin nodded, a bit shameful to admit it. It's not like he was weak or anything... But it did help.

“Any time then.”

And that made Martin smile. He hoped Douglas meant it. They laid like that for a while, Martin enjoying the warm feeling of a body besides him and a good mattress under him. Now that his little episode was over, he felt good, all things considered. Comfortable, safe, spent... he would be happy if he could just let himself live in the moment, but he was no Arthur. Martin wondered where Arthur was. He hoped he wasn't still on Gerti when both pilots vanished from the cockpit. Which made him think:

“Aliens?”

“Hmm?”

“Earlier, after the... after the sh-shower, you called the voice 'Aliens'.”

“Aren't they?”

“Are they?”

“I don't know, Martin: I haven't seen anyone else here besides you and that poor bird.”

“So... why aliens?”

“Why not? What else could it be? I'm not one to easily assume elements of science-fiction are true, but... Martin, what is the last thing you remember before waking here?”

“Gerti. We were flying cargo.”

“Nothing else?”

“Hmm... Well, there was Arthur that brought us our coffees, marking the end of the word games...”

“Exactly. Now, we were in Gerti and suddenly we stood in a white room. Moments before, our over-imaginative steward told us he was going back to count spaceship-shaped clouds, which we both ignored and put it on the count of Arthur being Arthur. But what else could rip us from the sky, I wonder?”

“Nice theory.”

“Hmm...”

They both feel asleep not much later. Martin with his head on Douglas' shoulder, Douglas with his nose in Martin's hair.


	11. Don't Mind Me: I'm Just Hitting on You

Martin woke up slowly. He wasn't quite awake, but gaining consciousness bit by bit. A warm breath steadily tickling the side of his face. A soft, comfortable surface rising and falling slowly was pressed in front of him and another soft, cool, unmoving one on his left side. A lazy movement on his back; fingers trailing idly up and down a spot on his spine. One of his legs being pressed between two warm surfaces. Waking up felt good.

He shuffled a little toward the warmth in front of him. The movement on his back, the warm breath and the rising and falling of the surface stopped, pulling Martin out of the half-slumber he was in. He opened his eyes and, looking up, saw Douglas, starring back at him.

“Good Morning, Martin. Slept well?”

Martin stretched, nodding an affirmative answer. The emotions of last night all but forgotten. A smile appeared on his face and, in his sleepy state, curled back up against Douglas. He heard Douglas breathing a content sigh, sounding almost relieved, as the other man hugged him. They lay like this, content, until the smell of coffee appeared in the air. Martin smiled grew as he inhaled the aroma.

“Coffee, again, this morning?”

“More like tea, I think.”

Douglas looked down at him and smiled. 

An actual smile from Douglas was rare; the man was more prone to smirks, and a gentle smile like this one was a new experience for Martin. A new experience he liked quite a lot. That smile, and the allusion to their previous talk about Douglas' preference between tea or coffee in the morning, sent butterflies in Martin's stomach.

Douglas hooked his legs with his own and hugged him tight, rolling them over on the bed, putting Martin on the right side to walk to the table, the movement bringing a quiet laugh out of the smaller man. He felt a pressure on his hair, like Douglas was about to kiss his head, but it withdrew and the arms around him let him go, making Martin wonder if he had imagined it. _Of course you have. Stop kidding yourself!_

Martin rolled out of bed, shaking his head, and poured the tea, hearing Douglas join him seconds later. They both ate in silence, lost in their thoughts, but brushing their fingers together at every occasion. They were sipping on their teas, breakfast over, when the voice called for their attention.

“We seem to be needing more tests as neither of you has shown any sign of pregnancy yet.”

Martin choked on his tea. When he could breathe again he looked at Douglas with wide eyes.

“Pregnancy?”

Douglas frowned, pensive, before addressing to the voice.

“Is that what all this is about? You want one of us to get _pregnant_?”

“Yes. That _is_ the preffered result of these tests.”

“Well. I'm sorry to inform you that we are both males... and that human males, unlike, say, _snails_ , can't reproduce with each other.”

The words were careful and Douglas was doing his best 'Let's be Friends, but You're a Bit Dense' face. Probably trying not to anger the voice.

“Nonsense! Our research show that two male of your species can reproduce. We have done everything to maximise the chance of pregnancy: Close contact between the two partners, maximization of the number of release after denying it for a time to force your body to produce more sperm, exchange of saliva to help activate the hormones. Ordering you to do specific task at times and letting you do what comes naturally at other times. Do not try to get out of this: we will succeed in our testing.”

“I'm afraid your research is very wrong. If I may ask: Where _did_ you find this peculiar information?”

“On your own data base, proving that our research was right.”

“Database? … Oh! Do you, perchance, mean to say 'on the internet'?”

The little laugh Douglas let go at the mention of the internet seemed to put the voice in doubt, surprisingly.

“Well, yes. That _is_ the only database your culture has to offer... Is there something... wrong with it?”

“Oh, yes! Of course: You know the first rule of the internet. Don't you?”

“Well, yes, of course. … But do refresh our memory.”

“The rule is simple: never trust anything you read on the internet. Many of the thing you'll find there will be true, but most are lies or stories.”

“Nonsense! You are only trying to escape from more testing. We read extensive biographies, in your database, about male pregnancies. We only haven't find a way to send the one of you that is the Omega in heat, yet.”

Martin and Douglas looked at each other, confused. Douglas mouthed 'Omega?' and Martin shrugged in answer. Never had he hear that word outside of a nature documentary on wolves. He knew it was a Greek letter but other than that, he was clueless. The voice was still talking.

“Of course we could surgically make one of you an Omega if neither of you are, but with these tests we didn't want surgically alter your DNA. This only means we need more thorough testing. Now keep quiet for the duration of the next test. If you fail to keep quiet, necessary control will be applied. Subject 9-20, please bind subject 9-22 to the contraption we are showing you.”

The ropes Martin had spotted two days earlier glowed. Rising to his feet, he spare a moment to be grateful that no surgery would be done on his person to help him bear a child.

The ropes were silky and very soft under his hands when he tied Douglas. The man was standing in front of the net of ropes, feet kept apart and arms at a 45 degree angle from his body. Ropes were tied around his ankles, his knees, his waist, shoulders, elbows and wrists. One large stripe of cloth went around his forehead. 

When Martin was done following the instructions on how to tie Douglas, the ropes tightened on their own, much like the contraption they were wearing on their first night, to stretch every part of the net, leaving very little give for Douglas to move and ensuring it would hold him up if his legs failed him.

“Subject 9-20, please put subject 9-22's reproductive organ in you mouth and begin to arouse him using only your mouth.”

Martin knelt down in front of Douglas and, looking into his eyes, slowly opened his mouth. Never breaking eye-contact, Martin lowered his head, letting a stream of warm breath settle on Douglas, and reached down with his tongue. The tip of his tongue glided around the head of Douglas' cock from front to back, posing for half a second to press on the slit, and curled upward to bring the wide expense of hardening flesh to his mouth. Martin watched Douglas swallow and gasp when his lips wrapped around the fat head, sucking gently, and he let his tongue lazily move around in circles; playing with the foreskin.

Douglas' eyes were dark with lust and Martin felt him shiver in his mouth. Martin opened his lips a little and leaned forward, without putting any pressure on the skin in his mouth, to take more of Douglas in his mouth, his tongue still caressing the tip. He closed his lips firmly around Douglas and, sucking a little, started to, very slowly, pull back. He stopped at the head, gave a little flick of the tongue on Douglas' slit, stopped the suction and relaxed his grip around the flesh before slightly opening his mouth to lean forward again a little further this time. He repeated the actions, going very slowly and doing his best not to break his eye-contact, adding a few strokes of the tongue to the underside on some of the forward motion. With each pull Douglas seemed to forget how to breathe, gasping when the pressure eased off, shivering when Martin's tongue did something unexpected.

By the time the voice spoke up again, Douglas was erected to his full capacity; beautifully big and strong in Martin's mouth.

“Subject 9-20, please put the entirety of subject 9-22's reproductive organ in your mouth and hold it there.”

Douglas' eyes widened a fraction either from fear of arousal Martin didn't know. Douglas was very big and the idea of taking him whole sent shivers of lust down Martin's spine. Martin hummed around Douglas, making the other man gasp and jerk in his restrains, before forcing his throat to relax and taking a few fast breaths before filling up his lungs and leaning forward in one smooth movement. When his nose reached Douglas' pubic hair, Martin was full. The tip of Douglas' cock stretching the back of his throat and fitting there perfectly. Martin closed his eyes and swallowed around him to keep the gag-reflex at bay, making Douglas moan beautifully, and stayed there.

Just when the lack of air was starting to be a problem, the voice spoke up again:

“Subject 9-20, please get up and go around subject 9-22 to use the contraption on the floor on subject 9-22.”

Martin opened his mouth and retreated fast, gulping at air. Douglas made a whimpering sound at the sudden loss, his eyes fixed of Martin, need written all over his face. Martin gave him an apologising shrug with one shoulder and proceeded to go around Douglas to look at the contraption he was to use. He blinked, picking up the piece of carved ginger, and frowned wondering what he was to do with it.

“Subject 9-20, please begin the insertion or necessary control will be applied.”

 _Oh_. Martin knelt, thinking the voice really had no business using its “You're Dense” tone of voice in this context. The ginger was long, the tip curved and about the size of his little finger. It grew steadily larger with bumps and ridges carved into it. At the base, where the ginger had a width of about five centimetres, the bumps looked more like little spikes, going all around the widest part, and the width diminished drastically before ending in a big horizontal circle, also convered in little spikes.

Martin didn't spot any lubricant and wasn't sure if the ginger was slick enough to go in without trouble, so he carefully pressed the tip against Douglas' entrance an moved it around a little. The surprised sound coming from Douglas and the fast clenching and unclenching of his buttocks made Martin pause, biting his lower lip. A small nip coming from the collar decided him, though, and he pushed more of the root inside of his co-pilot, trying to be careful. When the ginger was up inside to the beginning of the first craved bumps, the voice asked him to continue and to tease. Frowning a bit, wondering how he was supposed to _tease_ with a _root_ and unsure if the hisses and moans coming from Douglas were from pleasure or from pain, Martin turned the ginger on itself, slowing its entry whenever a bump was pressing against the tight muscles, redrawing and pushing back in again and again when one of the ridges came to pass the inflamed ring.

Douglas was sweating and shivering, his breath coming up in sharp gasp and coming out in stuttering sighs. He was clearly trying to move his hips around and the moans he frequently made went directly to Martin's crotch. He looked up to see Douglas' face. What he saw of it from his position was the most debauched, beautiful, arousing look he ever saw on someone; heavy lids almost closed all the way, lips slightly open, slicked with saliva every now and then when Douglas licked them languorously. His face was starting to have a shade of pink and his hair was plastered against his face and neck. To think he was the one who put that look on Douglas made Martin dizzy with want. He lowered his eyes and licked his lips at the sight of Douglas, beautiful member standing tall and demanding attention.

A small tingling in his neck brought him back to the here and now. _Right. Stop lusting after your colleague._ He went back to work with the ginger, pushing and pulling to make Douglas accept more of the irregular shape inside him. When it reached the tiny spikes, a shudder shook Douglas and the dirtiest moan came out of his throat. Martin applied himself more to the task, trying to reproduce that reaction again. He twisted pull and pushed, changing his speed and angle as much as he could. By the time the ginger was fully sheathed, Douglas was a trembling and whimpering mess.

“Subject 9-20, please make sure the tip of the devise is aligned with subject 9-22's gland properly and then use the device on the floor.”

Martin prodded and turned the ginger-butt-plug for some time, maybe taking a bit _too much_ care in making sure it would be hitting on the Douglas' prostate every time he pressed on it, and looked on the floor at the new device.

It was earplugs. Martin pursed his lips and got up, grabbing them, sincerely hoping they wouldn't make him do the same thing to Douglas they had Douglas do to him. He stepped around the net and sent and apologising look at Douglas before putting the ear plugs in each of his ears. 

He was just done with the last one when the voice spoke up again:

“Subject 9-20, please exchange saliva with subject 9-22. Forcefully.”

Martin got on tip-toe and pressed up against Douglas, their cocks bumping onto each other's, making them both shiver, and he pushed his tongue inside Douglas' mouth without waiting for the usual silent invitation. He claimed Douglas' mouth with an intensity that took Douglas by surprise for a few seconds. He quickly recovered, though, and he was soon kissing Martin back, but in a tentative way he had never done before. Almost like he was giving Martin control. 

It made Martin alive like never before. He roamed his hands on Douglas' chest, neck, hair, arms, nipples, face. He rutted against Douglas' body, breathing hard when he could gasp air. Martin felt his resolve break. He was done for. The stupid little crush he had been nursing for some time now wasn't so little any more; it burned every inch of his skin, making the kiss even more hungry and desperate.

“Good, now stop.”

Martin backed a few steps, breathing hard, looking at Douglas who was trying to follow him for more despite his restraints. Martin was shaking with need, but went back behind Douglas when the voice asked him to and picked up the wooden paddle that had appeared on the floor during their kiss.

Martin followed the voices' instructions as to were to land each strong stroke of the pallet, cringing a bit at the resounding _twak_ each stroke produced when it came into contact with Douglas' soft, and rapidly reddening, skin. The sounds Douglas was making were amazing. Each had a difference nuance to it: at first it was surprise and shock, then pain lightly appeared but rapidly morphed into moans, and when Martin was hitting the pallet directly in between both cheeks, right were the ginger was, the cry-sob-moan would vibrate inside Martin.

When all of Douglas' butt and the higher portion of his thighs were an angry shade of red, the voice asked him to stop.

“Please tease subject 9-22 with the device inserted in him. You may also use you mouth.”

Martin hurriedly let go of the paddle and knelt behind Douglas, grabbing both warm cheeks in his hands and squeezing, delighted at the aroused groan Douglas made. Kneading his fingers, Martin pushed the cheeks apart and run his tongue around the ginger plug before turning his head slightly and biting a red piece of flesh gently.

He lapped and kissed every inch of Douglas' backside while twisting the ginger. Pulling just enough to put tension on the muscle, but not enough to remove. The spikes or the ginger no doubt dragging inside the ring of muscle when it turned. Martin pushed back in to hit the sensitive gland, before pulling in out again, this time making the muscle give, as he bit the other cheek. A shiver went through Douglas and his moans were slowly turning into a never-ending plea.


	12. T(h)rust in Me

“Good. Retrieve the device and begin reproducing. Please be advised that if subject 9-22 reaches his release, necessary control will be applied to both of you. Do not touch his reproductive organ or necessary control will be applied to you.”

Martin removed the ginger completely, making Douglas whimper, and put it on the floor. Seeing a small bottle of lube he coaxed his cock with it and aligned himself to enter Douglas. He slipped the head of his cock inside Douglas, making both of them moan: Douglas in pleasure of being filled again, Martin in pleasure of the warm pressure around him and in surprise at the heavy sting he was feeling. Apparently there was still traces of ginger left!

After taking a few breaths to acclimate with the new feeling, Martin pushed in completely and started rocking his hips gently.

“Subject 9-20, please make your movements faster and harder. Angle yourself to hit on subject 9-22's gland.”

Groaning, Martin pulled almost all the way out slowly and tried to move to get a better hit on Douglas' prostate when he slammed back in. On the third thrust, Douglas moaned a stuttered gasp. He had found the right angle, then. He continued to thrust in and out as fast and as hard as he could, hitting the sensitive gland every time. The hard, fast pace and Douglas' reactions were making Martin hungry for more. Every hit brought a moan which alone would have been enough to arouse him, but he could also feel it from inside Douglas. Every groan or whimper the man made was accompanied by a slight squeeze of the muscles surrounding Martin making his foreskin stretch, like it wanted to stay inside with every thrust out. The thrusts in were filled with the lingering feeling of the ginger and, with every slam, Martin's balls were hitting Douglas' skin, still warm from the paddle.

His hands were gripping tight to Douglas' hips and it wasn't long before he started to feel close to orgasm. He put his forehead on Douglas' spine, ready to come, when the voice decided it had other plans.

“Good, now stop and get out.”

It was harder to follow the command than it looked, but Martin got out, not too gently, with the next thrust out. Douglas gave a groan followed by a whimper, probably due to the rough exit and the sudden emptiness. Martin was breathing so fast he almost didn't hear what the voice said next.

“Subject 9-20, please but the device back in subject 9-22.”

It took a bite out of the necklace for the words to register, the pain making him wince at the same time as making his very hard cock twitch. He bent his knees, feet far apart to mind his erection, took the ginger and pushed it easily in. The voice hadn't mention any teasing so he didn't play with it, he just made sure it was snugly put before he got up, easing the pull on his cock.

He backed a few steps when a small platform, almost a mat, rose from the floor under Douglas' feet. 

Martin took the time to try and diminish his erection, breathing hard, with his eyes closed so he wouldn't be seeing Douglas erected, dripping, still pink on the backside, wriggling as much as his restrains would let him and with his eye full of warm lust on his flushed face. The sounds his partner was making were enough to make his plans to calm down almost impossible; he didn't need the visual.

When Martin felt it would be okay to open his eyes, he saw that the restrains around Douglas were shifting. The ropes around his legs were slowly pulling his feet in front of him and the rest of his body was lowered, so that he was going to be sitting on the new mat on the floor. When his butt touched the platform, Douglas let go of a small hiss immediately followed my a groaning moan. He was trying to shift his weight but it only made it worse, if the stream of “Oh dear god”s was anything to go by.

When the restrains finished rearranging, Douglas was sitting on the mat, his legs stretched in front of him, and his back slightly reclined in a position that wouldn't be very comfortable if it wasn't for the ropes holding him tightly, supporting him.

“Subject 9-20, please sit atop subject 9-22 and resume reproduction. Please be advised that subject 9-22 will be allowed release once inside you, but if _you_ reach the end of your reproduction cycle, necessary control will be applied to the both of you. You may use the speed you wish. Please begin.”

Martin screwed his eyes shut briefly. Not being allowed release when he was this close already would be hard. He took a big breath to steady himself and moved toward Douglas' front before the voice could decide to control him for not moving fast enough. 

The voice hadn't said anything about preparation, so he snatched the small bottle of lube still on the floor and put an hefty dose on his hand. He applied it on Douglas without waiting for the lube to warm to be certain the friction wouldn't bring Douglas over the edge before he was sheathed. It seemed to take Douglas' breath away but it worked in not letting him reach his release.

When Douglas had more than enough lubricant on him, Martin put his knees on either side of the platform under Douglas' hips and placed himself on top of the warm, throbbing member in his hand. He put the big head at his entrance and sort of rocked his hips up and down very slowly, opening himself with the top of Douglas' cock. True; the events of the last few days had loosen him quite a bit and the rem-8-val took the uncomfortable edge of over-use off, but Douglas was still very big and Martin's own arousal and the position he was in, holding steady on his bent legs, was making him a bit tense.

He finally lowered himself to let the head go in. He stopped moving for a moment, concentrating on relaxing the muscles that kept twitching from the stretch. His eyes were fixed on Douglas' which were almost completely black and looking straight into his soul. After some time, Martin rose a tiny fraction before sliding down a little. When the stretching became slightly uncomfortable he rose back up, so that only the head was still inside, and slid back down without hurry but without waiting either. He repeated the movements until all of Douglas' long, warm, throbbing, big cock was inside and he sat there, not moving, enjoying the feeling of being stretched and completely filled by Douglas who was still looking at him like he was the most lovely thing he ever put his eyes on.

Martin debated whether to put his legs around Douglas to be able to fit even better, but decided against it when he realised that it would make his very sensitive cock rub against Douglas' belly. He put his hands on Douglas' shoulders and began moving up and down as slowly as he could, with his back angled back, so that his penis wouldn't hit too much the other man. Of course that position had a drawback he realised quickly enough: He was making Douglas push on his prostate. Letting out a shaky puffy breath through his nose and biting his lower lip, Martin moved forward a little. A small compromise: It made his cock rub on Douglas', enough to tease but without enough friction to get off, and it made Douglas' cock's hits to his prostate less intense. 

“Subject 9-20, please continue your reproduction while exchanging saliva with subject 9-22 in a forceful manner.”

Martin didn't need to be told twice: the urge to kiss the man looking at him with so much passion was already nagging at his mind. 

He kissed Douglas like he did earlier; claiming him. And Douglas _let him_. Again. This, more than the slow up and down, more than the teasing rubbing on his neglected erection, almost brought him over the edge. Douglas tasted of the floral tea they drank this morning and he had a smoky taste Martin couldn't place but he guessed was purely Douglas. He let his tongue explore every depth of Douglas' mouth, sucking his tongue, nibbling on the other man's lower lip every time he needed a breath, and continuing the slow up-and-down of his hips. Both men were moaning into the kiss and Martin could feel Douglas melt under him, letting Martin have total control over him. He felt so intoxicated! Surely his skin would burst at any moment?

And then the mat began to vibrate.


	13. Marbellous!

Martin broke the kissing and stopped his hips movement with a gasp. Looking down, he saw that the mat seemed to be made of something similar to spandex, stretched over little marbles. The vibration came from the marbles grinding against each other and moving around. Martin didn't really understand the need for this, but it clearly had an effect on Douglas: his eyes were screwed shut, his breath was coming in little whimpering pants, And his lower lip was between his teeth, the skin going white.

The combination of the spanking and the ginger on moving marble was either incredibly good or absolutely agonizing. Possibly both.

The collar gave a strong bite, making Martin wince, to remind him the orders he wasn't following any more. He pulled up, watching the reaction on Douglas' face at the added stimuli, and pushed back hard. The brush on his prostate made him heady and when he claimed back Douglas' mouth with the next move of his hips, it was almost too much to keep from coming.

Martin moaned desperately in Douglas' mouth needing more but not able to get it lest the collar would reduce them both to ash. Shaking with want and restrain, Martin kept on kissing Douglas, pushing his tongue and trying to get every single trace of taste he could get. The noise of the marbles was adding to the intensity of the moment and Martin couldn't stop one hand from sliding down on Douglas' back, fingers going up the spine as the same time he was lifting himself off of Douglas' laps, and down to the beginning of the cleft on every slide down.

His left hand found a nipple and tweaked it, timing it with a squeeze of his muscle around Douglas. The effect was instantaneous: the other man took a shaky breath, breaking the kiss, and tensed. Martin had to bite his lips to concentrate on the here and now; Douglas' face was the most beautiful thing he ever saw at this moment, with his eyes staying open and fixed on Martin glazed with bliss, his abused lips red and slick with saliva, his cheeks pink and his hair in disarray. 

The mat stopped vibrating as a stream of semen filled him and soon after Douglas went slack in the restrains. Martin stayed in this position until he felt Douglas going soft inside him, trying to will his own erection away.

“Good. Subject 9-20, please get up and go around subject 9-22.”

It took two tries for Martin to be able to stand correctly on his shaking legs, but he did it and went around Douglas as asked, putting his left hand on his partner's shoulder once he was out of sight to keep both of them grounded.

The ropes shifted and Douglas was put back in his original standing position, though the ropes, rather than his legs, seemed to be the ones making him stand. Martin shifted his hand for the shoulder to the shoulder blade, laying it flat there and rubbing his thumb idly on the spot of skin. He was rewarded by a small shiver and a deep sigh on Douglas' part.

“Subject 9-20, please arouse subject 9-22 with your hand. Once he is aroused, kept moving your hand as slowly as you can while you reproduce with him. You may reach the end of your reproduction cycle, but subject 9-22 may not.”

Martin bent down, not leaving his hand from Douglas' back, and picked up the lube. It was bound to be uncomfortable for Douglas to be stimulated so close to release, Martin would at least do his best to keep it from being downright painful. He popped the bottle open with the same hand he was holding it, reluctant to let go of Douglas, and awkwardly turned the bottle around to squeeze some on his palm. He let the bottle drop on the floor and smeared the lube as best he could with one hand on his palm. When he was satisfied that the lubricant had warmed enough he rubbed some on his own cock before reaching around Douglas' waist to grab his soft member, pressing the tip of the fingers resting on the shoulder blade in an attempt to warn Douglas and apologise for the uncomfortable sensations to come.

Martin rubbed a slick thumb on the head before taking a loose hold of the shaft, pulling and turning his fist slowly. The hiss Douglas made was almost enough to make him stop. As it was, his collar emitted a small tingling sensation as warning when his hand stuttered in hesitation. Swallowing his discomfort, Martin continued the movements, making them gradually faster and augmenting the pressure of his fingers around the soft flesh.

Douglas was twitching in his restrains, trying in vain to escape the moving hand, and let out a small pained whine, the beginning of Martin's name on his lips. His collar must have buzzed because he didn't finish; the rule of 'no talking' was still valid.

Martin felt Douglas slowly growing in his hand. He pumped a little faster still, flicking his wrist at the top and letting his finger graze Douglas' sack when he reached the base. He let his other hand roam on his lover's back, trying to sooth his discomfort by bringing more pleasurable, more comforting sensations. His left hand was barely touching the skin, going down the spine from the base of the neck to the curve of the back and up across the ribs on Douglas' left side, then under the arm across the chest, down to the beginning of Douglas' pubic hair, rounding them until he reached the beginning of the legs and around the hips again to follow the curve of the cheeks and up on the left side of the back, flattening his hand on the shoulder blade with his fingers rounding the shoulder before resuming the barely-there touch on the side of the neck, around the back of the ears and beginning the same pattern again. Martin's right hand had found a lazy rhythm around Douglas' length, squeezing a bit harder on the way to the tip, letting two fingers go over the head and bringing his hand down with his thumb, forefinger and middle finger on one side and his ring finger and pinky on the other until his thumb met the base of the member, before going up, squeezing with his middle and ring fingers, and letting the fingers rub over the head again to resume their original position in a loose fist down to the base and back up again. While his hands were busy, he occupied his mouth by lazily licking and kissing Douglas' right shoulder blade. Tasting the salt of his skin and feeling its warmth on his lips.

The sounds and twitches Douglas made earlier were almost gone, gradually replaced by shudders and moans. When Douglas was hard enough to stand to attention on his own, Martin pressed his left hand on Douglas' skin and lowered it, all the way down to his perineum, to press at the skin with one finger. The shuddering breath Douglas let out was enough to let Martin know he was as ready as he would get, so he grabbed the ginger and pulled it out carefully before taking himself in hand, never stopping his movement with his right hand, and pushed at Douglas' entrance.

The way was already slicked from their earlier activities and with his cock pre-slicked, Martin met little resistance. He pushed forward carefully until he was fully in and began to rock his hips, feeling Douglas' warmth all around him. He didn't need much time or friction before his orgasm took him, having been hard and on the brink for quite some time now, and the force of it took his breath way. His right hand tightened around Douglas' length, his left sneaking around his lover's waist to hug him, to enable himself to stay upright or simply by reflex. Martin wasn't too sure which because his mind was filled with white. The only things he knew where pleasure and the smell and warmth of Douglas in front of him.

When he came to, he unclenched his right hand, putting it around Douglas' waist instead, and put his forehead on his partner's back, breathing hard.

“Good. Subject 9-20, please put the device at your feet inside of subject 9-22 as fast as you can.”

 _Stupid voice. Can't even enjoy the afterglow of the greatest orgasm I've ever had._ He looked down to see a shiny butt plug. Sighing, he slid out of Douglas and went, almost controlling his fall, to his knees to take the object. It was cold in his hand, but the form seemed to be made to facilitate entry and it wasn't very long. He pushed it in easily, too tired to mind Douglas' strangled yelp at the sudden coldness. It wasn't too big, but big enough to stop any of his come to escape. On impulse, Martin reached with his tongue and lapped what little of himself had slid out, finishing by rounding the hilt of the plug with the tip of his tongue.

“Good. Subject 9-20, please make subject 9-22 reach the release of his procreation cycle with your mouth. Make sure to swallow everything.”

His legs still felt like jelly, so he moved around on his hand and knees until he was in front of Douglas. A quick look up confirmed that the other man was looking at him already and Martin locked his eyes on Douglas'.

Deciding not to tease Douglas, Martin hollowed his cheeks and sucked as hard as he could once he had more than half of Douglas inside his mouth. Still sucking, he very, very slowly pulled back and flicked his tongue on the head when it was the only thing left inside. He took a big breath and did it again, never looking away from Douglas. And again. On the third flicking of his tongue he pushed a knuckle on Douglas' perineum and then rapidly pushed his head forward. Douglas trembled and closed his eyes. A small amount of warm liquid spilled on Martin's mouth, who greedily swallowed it with Douglas still in his mouth.

When Douglas went limp, Martin let him got gently and sat there, looking up at his lover, rubbing his hands on the man's legs.

After about a minute, the restrains moved to let Douglas down on the floor. The man could hardly sit upright on his own, so Martin held him while he did as the voice told him and untied the ropes and straps. Douglas was leaning on him when he was finished and Martin pushed a kissed on his co-pilot's temple while removing the ear plugs.

“Good. Subject 9-20 and subject 9-22, please go inside the pond and hold on to each other while we study the data we have collected.”

Groaning, both men got up on shaking legs and made their way to the small pond in front of the waterfall. The water was warm and the shape of the banks perfect to sit and cuddle, so they did just that: Douglas with his back on the walls of the pond, his head resting on the bank, Martin's right shoulder under his left arm, head resting on his chest with his left arm around Douglas' waist. Both fell asleep in minutes, smiling.


	14. Hugging Time

Martin woke up feeling happy. Happy, and warm, and safe. He felt a small pressure on his hair, just like the day before, only this time... this time Douglas dropped a kiss on the top of his head. Martin couldn't, wouldn't fight the smile that spread on his lips.

“Good morning”

He could feel the rumbling voice from inside Douglas' chest. Martin let go of a contented sigh and open his eyes to look up at Douglas, the smile still on his lips.

“'Morning.”

Douglas smiled back and hugged him with his left arm before bending his head down slowly, conveying his intent in case Martin wouldn't want it, to chastely kiss him. Martin hummed and, when the kiss broke, buried his head onto Douglas' neck, hugging him tighter. It was, after all, the voice's orders: They had to hug. And Martin wasn't about to complain this time: he felt perfectly content.

They stayed like this for a long time, moving only to find a more comfortable position in each other's arms, one of them dropping a kiss every now and then on a patch of skin available at the moment: head, chest, temple, shoulder, nose, neck, fingers, palm.

Martin would have asked nothing more than just have this for the rest of his life. But of course the voice spoke up again.

“Subject 9-20, you may remove the device from subject 9-22.”

Martin blinked. _The device.... Right! The plug..._ He blushed at having forgotten about it. _Douglas must have been uncomfortable this whole time._ He looked up under his eyelashes at Douglas.

“Hum... I'll... I'll just... hum...”

He lowered his eyes and took a deep breath. Why was he feeling so foolish about such a small thing all of a sudden? _After all the things we did before, this is nothing. Get a grip!_

He felt a warm, wet hand rest on the back of his neck.

“Calm down, love. It's fine. Just... slowly.”

Martin could hear the blood rushing in his ears. _I must have misheard..._ But no. No he didn't. A small, shy smile tugged at his lips and his eyes flashed at Douglas for a second before he looked down to concentrate on the task. Douglas helpfully spread his legs under the water and Martin reached for the plug, tugging at it gently, twisting it a bit to make the muscle give. After a time it did and the plug came out with a gasp of breath from Douglas.

Martin let the plug fall to the bottom of the pond and looked in Douglas' eyes. The older man moaned and leaned for a kiss. 

Before they could deepen it, however, the voice made itself heard again.

“Good. Well... Thank you for your co-operation, I guess.”

Martin and Douglas looked at each other with a puzzle frown on each of their faces.

“Hum...?”

“The tests were inconclusive. It looks like we'll have to find other subjects. We have no more need for you. Good bye.”

 _This is it_ , Martin thought, _I finally found love and I'm going to be shock to death by a control collar..._ He hugged Douglas as tight as he could, pressing his face in the crook of his lover's neck to wait for the inevitable. He felt Douglas hug him back with the same desperate force, putting a last kiss on his head.


	15. It. Was. BRILLIANT!

Gerti was rumbling and Martin blinked at the bright light entering the cockpit from the sunny day outside.

He frowned.

He looked at the instrument and licked his lips.

He flicked his eyes briefly towards Douglas to see if he had any emotions or reactions, but the man was lazily sprawled as best he could in his co-pilot seat, gazing outside, looking for all the world like he was trying to come up with a new game.

_Right._

He swallowed and licked his lips and, gathering his courage, took a big breath to ask one of the hundreds questions pooling in his head.

“WOW!”

Martin let go of the breath at Arthur's exclamation. Whatever it was he was bound to come and share it and this was not a discussion Martin wanted to have with Arthur overhearing. Sure enough, about three seconds after the exclamation, Arthur invaded the cabin cheerfully.

“It. Was. BRILLIANT! Wasn't it?”

Martin frowned at the instruments. Surely Arthur wasn't talking about...

“And what, pray tell, happened that was oh-so-brilliant in the...”

Douglas made a show of looking at his watch. Then of rising an eyebrow.

“... Three minutes and ten seconds since you last graced us of your presence, Arthur?”

“Oh EVERYTHING! Mainly the tentacles. Wait, three minutes? Your watch must be wrong Douglas, see, I couldn't see the sun or anything, and there wasn't any clocks, but I'm pretty sure I was there for a looong time. Like. _DAYS_!”

“... Right. So what you're telling us is that, whilst Martin and I have been piloting Gerti for three minutes, you have been somewhere else. For days.”

Arthur nodded his head vehemently.

“Yes! And there were other people, too! And the tentacles, and...”

“Yes, stop right there, Arthur. I do not think we need to hear your dream in detail.”

“But... It wasn't a dream!”

Martin could feel sympathy for the crestfallen tone Arthur's voice had affected. He, too, didn't want it to be a dream. Although what other explanation was there? Aliens? Really? There must have been something in the food both he and Arthur ate or something they drank and it made them hallucinate... 

“Arthur, between you and I, who, do you think, is the more likely to be right? You, with your story about being out of Gerti, mid-flight, for days before coming back on board three minutes after you left? Or me, saying Martin and I never left this place and only three minutes has passed in-between your last visit when you brought us coffee? Said coffee, might I add, being still warm and steaming.”

Arthur looked from Douglas to Martin to the steaming cups of coffee.

“Oh...”

“Yes. 'Oh.' Now, please, Arthur, if you have nothing else new to report, go back to the film you were watching?”

“I wasn't watch... Right. Yes, hum. Sorry, then. I'll just be... I'll- I'll be going.”

Douglas let go of a small sigh and resumed watching the horizon.

Martin felt his heart sinking.

“Tentacles...”

It was murmured, but loud enough for Martin to hear perfectly the disbelieving note. He forced himself to chuckle and answer a weak “Yeah”. His eyes were fixed on his hands. He felt rejected. _Which is stupid: there is nothing to feel reject of in the first place! It never happened. It's not like Douglas... It's... Nothing. Happened. Get a grip!_ He pulled a deep, hopefully silent, breath to calm down.

“Let's be glad we didn't get those. Can you imagine? No. No, better not to.”

Martin froze, his frown deepening. _... What?_ He swallowed against the knot of hope in his throat. Slowly, with trepidation, he moved his eyes towards Douglas.

… Who was smiling gently at him. A real, rare one. Martin took a deep breath and asked the question he was afraid to be answered:

“It really happened, then?”

In answer, Douglas reached out to tug at Martin's shirt, making the collar of the uniform slide back a little.

“Hmm. I'd say yes.”

Martin put his hand on his neck, feeling the bite marks that were still there, feeling himself blush.

“B- but... _how_?”

Douglas waved his hand nonchalantly.

“Let's not try to answer that one right now. I fear we may never get an answer, anyway.”

Martin blinked at him.

“And w-what about... About Arthur? You j-just...”

“I just said to Arthur that he didn't get abducted by Aliens mid-flight to have sex with strangers and... _tentacles_. Martin, do you imagine what sort of story Arthur might go on telling to everyone he meets? I think it's for the best if our loyal steward doesn't get sectioned, don't you?”

A smile crept on Martin's lips. It had been real. _Which, of course, doesn't mean that Douglas is still... That was inside the ship. When it looked like it was all we would ever have again and survival instinct made us... He probably wouldn't... Of course not. Why would he, really? I don't even think he likes men that way.”_ Martin focused his eyes on the sky, taking a deep breath and then another, fighting to keep the small smile on his face.

“Martin... I...”

 _And here it comes._ Martin tightened his hold on the yoke. _Please don't say it. I think I could just live with it if you just wouldn't say it. Let me believe that it was real. Please, please, please, please..._

“... That is... If you want to, of course. I wouldn't want to force you into anything after... after _that_...”

 _Shut up, shutupshutupshutuppleasepleaseplease._ Martin blinked rapidly and fought hard to remain calm on the outside.

“... I... Know of a good French restaurant, about forty-five minutes out of Fitton, where they make these fresh baked croissants that just melt into your mouth...”

Martin, still blinking rapidly, but for entirely different reason now, gaped at Douglas. At Douglas that looked... _unsure_ of all things.

“I just thought... You looked like you liked croissants... But if I was mistaken...”

And with a small nod, Douglas is back a staring intently at the horizon.

After a beat Martin unfroze.

“I love you. I mean: I- I- I'd love to! I'd love to... to try those... hum, i-if you... It... It s-sounds lovely.”

And _that_ brought Douglas' brown, warm, lovely eyes back to him. _Oh and that beautiful, beaming smile!_

“You have control,” Martin murmured before bending over to kiss Douglas.

**Author's Note:**

> \- Thank you so much to everyone who read this and/or kudoed and/or commented, I hope you liked it as much as I liked writing it!
> 
> \- A companion for this, Chamber 70, from Arthur's pov is in the oven (I know I said mid-December but I am bad at writing on time apparently) for those who wanted to know if it's still in the plans: it is. It's just slow, slow plans.
> 
> \- I got amazing fanarts! *squeee* In order of arrival (so as not to make anyone jealous. I love them both equally) :  
> [MxDP](http://mxdp.tumblr.com/) made a gorgeous rendering of the fall scene in Chapter 10, [see it here.](http://i273.photobucket.com/albums/jj207/Mx_DP/Spaceshipschapedcloudsscan.jpg)  
> [TheKaskProject](http://thekaskproject.tumblr.com/) made a fabulous gifset of the sensory deprivation in Chapter 7, [see it here.](http://thekaskproject.tumblr.com/post/45063011185/spaceship-shaped-clouds-by-froggy-bang-bang)  
> Thank you so much you two, you have no idea how great it made me feel to see the fic in images!!!


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